Ora e Sempre
by pancake-ss
Summary: Love is like a monster. It'll get you, mess with you, then throw you away. For Francesco Bernoulli, at least. When he starts falling for Emily Turbo, he is first cautious. But can Emily open up a new side of him that no one knows about? Francesco & OC.
1. Seen

Wow, I can't believe you actually clicked on this! Well, first of all, thank you, for THIS IS IT. Yep, my first story. I have absolutely no experience in writing, so if you're actually reading this, reviews would be extremely appreciated. Like very. I would like to thank all the lovely authors that I have been spamming (writing reviews and PMing and such) like Miss Carrera and CarlaVelosoWolf... You two were my inspiration and motivation into finally getting the gaul to write this! Thank you again! Ok, here we go, focus.

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><p><strong>"Ora e Sempre"<strong>

(Now and Forever)

**Chapter One: Seen**

(Francesco's POV)

I wasn't surprised at the reaction everyone had to my leaving. Even I would have never imagined, in my wildest dreams, that I would be moving to America. That's what love does to you. It swallows you whole, leaving you dazed, then spits you back out, onto the cold, hard, concrete of reality. At least that's how I'd knew it.

The first time I'd laid eyes on her was at the F1 Italian Grand Prix, naturally. It was prior to the race, and I was underneath the Main Grandstand, headed toward the pits, with my crew, security guards, and numerous reporters on my tail. She was a gorgeous F1 car, with an inconceivably sleek body figure. The sun's speckled rays danced on her black paint job, leaving one to think she was a whitish color, instead of black. She had blue racing stripes along her sides, with the number 3 interrupting the two stripes abruptly. The word TURBO was under the 3. I knew for sure that she wasn't one of the racers, because, for one, there was no one following her around. She also didn't have any sponsors.

She was speaking Italian to a car manning one of the many souvenir stands. I'd never seen her before, but she looked vaguely familiar. I felt some sort of electric current run through my body when I saw her laugh. She thanked the vendor, and started reversing to turn around. I revved my engine at her, something I normally do to capture attention from the ladies. She turned and I saw her eyes widen, then light up. She smiled. I winked. She blushed. She was beautiful. She was different. She was genuine. I analyzed all of this in a matter of several seconds. By now, my crew chief was yelling at the security guards to start pushing me away, and I argued back at them. I looked back towards her, but all I saw was her driving away. My chief yelled at me again, saying I was creating more attention than was necessary. I pouted childishly.

I forgot about the whole incident quickly enough. The feeling of heading out onto the pre-race platform and hearing your name announced was much too distracting for me. I loved it. I loved hearing the crowd cheer the loudest when they announced me. It was one of the greatest feelings one could experience. I headed off the platform and towards my crew. When my chief is nervous, usually pre-race, he starts speaking in English. I do not prefer speaking English. It always reminds me of that horrible race, the World Grand Prix to be exact, that happened a year ago and ended up in disaster with some nasty jalopies blowing up the world's greatest racers to become rich. Disgusting. Pretty much all of us racers suffered from these engine blows, except myself and my rival, Lightning McQueen. Yes, when someone says the word "American" his face pops up in my head! And his happy-sunshine-perfect life! Always walking around with a smile on his face, with a beautiful girl on his side! It gets me angry. To be honest, I envy him. I try to lie to myself, and I sometimes succeed, but I've always wondered what it was like... Living in America like that, in a small town. I tend to think about him too much. I disgust myself.

Even though Motorosi was giving me a pep-talk, I really wasn't listening. I was motivating myself, wondering about that American.

"_FRANCESCO_! Get-a your fat head out of the clouds and-a _listen_ to me!" shouted my crew chief, Giuseppe Motorosi. He was shaking his front tires around furiously.

I blinked twice and shook my head to make myself alert.

"What is-a _wrong_ with-a you? You haven't been-a focused this-a whole day!"

"Mi dispiace, mio vecchio amico," I responded quickly.

He looked at me with worry like I was a crazy old man.

"Are you-a sure you feel fine enough-a to race?"

I was shocked; offended. "You _really _think-a that I'm not able to race?" I announced a bit too loud.

He sunk a bit into the ground and looked up at me. "No..." he said wearily.

I could see he was still unsure, so I gave him my suave smile, which usually makes him know I'm being my normal self. "Aha! Now that's-a the spirit! I am-a Francesco Bernoulli! I don't-a miss a race for _anything!_" I nudged him playfully, then started out towards the starting line.

I could feel his eyes on my back.

As I was driving up pit lane, I felt something hit my spoiler. It felt like a necklace. I turned around furiously, ready with a set of Italian swear-words on the tip of my tongue to yell at the ape who dared to...

Only to find my Mama blowing kisses at me, a sort of tradition. I looked down at the ground and saw a rosary. She is such a sweetie.

"Be-a careful, mi bebe!" she waved at me.

I kissed the rosary and threw it back up at her with a smile. "As always!"

At the starting line, I took a deep breath before the lights turned green. Racing. Possibly every car in the world wants to be a race car. Where you can fly to your heart's content, with no speed limit.

In about an hour, the race was halfway through. I was staying focused until now, when the announcers started naming "special visitors".

They only named few Italian important dignitaries, surprisingly, I would have expected more celebrities. The English-translator said:

"Oh, look at-a this, Michael! It-a seems that American Indy Racer Emilia Turbo is here! That is-a very surprising. Although she was-a born here in Italia, her parents moved-a to America and she grew up there..."

The word "Turbo" caught my attention. I looked up at the screen and saw a picture of her sitting there, looking at herself on the big-screen and blushing a bit, but smiling. I gasped aloud, and Motorosi heard me through the headset.

"What's-a wrong, boy?" he asked quickly.

So that was her name. Emilia. I gently closed my eyes and fantasized about her for a moment.

"DIOS MIO!" Motorosi shrieked in horror.

Going at 298 KPH, I opened my eyes only to see the track barrier 10 feet in front of me.

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><p>Well, that's it. The first chapter. If you are reading this, I beg you, <strong>PLEASE REVIEW<strong>. Or else I would see no reason into continuing this story. Thank you! :)

TRANSLATIONS:

Mi dispiace, mio vecchio amico: Excuse me, my old friend

Dios mio: My God


	2. Recover

Thank you **SO** much for the reviews! I didn't think I was going to get ANY! Thank you! I'm SO glad you guys love it! But, this doesn't mean you can slack off... If you're gonna read, you're gonna review! :P Haha, that's my rules! Here's another chapter for y'all. I'm sorry I didn't update in a while, I had a lot to do at school, homework, you know how it is... Plus I had writer's block ); It was Catholic School's Week, so I had to help around, and got behind on homework... And on this.. But, I'll try to get ahead on this now that it's the weekend! :D Sorry it's mega short but got it done, so here it is!

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><p><strong>Chapter Two: Recover<strong>

_(Francesco's POV)_

I'll never know what it was that prevented me from that fatal crash into the wall. Perhaps it was my quick-thinking... quick reactions. Maybe it was luck, luck that made me think quick enough to jump over it. Maybe it was her Emilia, she... motivated me...? No. Or perhaps it was my angel? My father? My father who had passed in a racing accident when I was only five? My loving mother's rosary? Her constant prayers for me? What else could it have been?

All I knew was that I was over the fence, in a patch of grass behind the barrier. I looked around frantically. The whole stadium was looking at me in worry. The announcers were saying something in English, again. I saw some officials and a couple of paramedics heading towards me. But I wasn't hurt at all. I did land straight-onto my undercarriage though, so I was aching a bit.

As I started to get up on my tires, I felt a sharp pain in my chin. "What the-?" I found that speaking hurt. Great. I looked down my hood to my mouth area, and I noticed something was missing. _My right front wing! It's MISSING!_ I saw it lying on the ground.

"FIX ME!" I shouted, and it felt like a hammer smashed my chin.

_Oh, please, what did I do to deserve this? I CAN'T BELIEVE THIS HAPPENED! Help me, please, I'll do anything! HOW LONG DOES IT TAKE FOR YOU TO GET OVER HERE, VOI STOLTI LENTO! Please...?_

Everything and everyone started fading. I was fainting. I, Francesco Bernoulli, fainting. Unbelievable._  
><em>

I woke up in scratchy hospital bed sheets, and I heard voices speaking softly in Italian at the foot of the bed. My body felt numb. I peeked from under my eyelids at my chin, and noticed that my wing was attached back on. It could have been worse, at least I didn't have any nightmares...

I had stayed in the hospital only once before, back when I was a rookie and sprained my axle. My mother had always assumed that what happened to me was always her fault, that she was a bad mother, how she should have been more careful, all that garbage.

I just lay there, letting her baby me, and when she finally left, I predicted that I could get some rest now. Doctors came in every five minutes, and politely interrupted her, so our "conversation" was triple the time it usually would have been.

She gave me one last kiss, and whispered "Okay, so che lei sarà la mia grande forte ragazzo. Vi amo, ora e per sempre."

I had to smile at that one. "Ti voglio bene. Buona notte a mama."

She gave me a smile, and walked out of the room. I shut my eyes for two seconds, and a nurse bustled in.

I seemed to have forgotten what it was like to stay in a hospital. Every three hours, vital signs. Machines beeping spontaneously, and big, loud carts rolling down the hallway. Oil and exhaust samples... humiliating. Cords getting tangled all over you, and... itchy bed sheets.

Luckily, I only had to stay one night, but I was confused why they had to take me to a hospital instead of a body shop. I mean, I wasn't hurt. They said I landed sort of on my wing and it pushed against my chin, forcing my jaw to sprain and my wing to break off. I looked in the mirror and saw my chin was swollen, looking like I had a double chin, _and _there was a bruise... a long, fat, purple line.

I looked like I had gained twenty pounds then got punched hard. _Now _they wanted to put me on a _flatbed. _'To ensure proper and professional transportation!' These people were overly-nice, and they even called me 'Mr. Bernoulli'.

I just did as they told me because it hurt to talk, and I was too tired to fight against it. They told me I should stay home for two days, and no racing for two weeks. Oh the pain I would be feeling. It would probably be worse than my chin.

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><p>"Francesco Bernoulli, you are-a the King of Drama!" my mother announced with sarcasm. This woman could read my mind. Yep, I just knew it. She's like that.<p>

"So you're-a implying that-a I'm married to... Cim Cardashian? Considering she's the queen?" I responded lazily.

"Who's that? Anyway, it has-a been _two _days, and I think-a you are perfectly fine-a to go outside." she said not looking me in the eye, pretending to be occupied with something in the kitchen.

"I think-a I'm just-a going to go take a drive-a to the track." I said slowly in pain, eye-balling her every movement.

She nodded, and that was my signal that I was free.

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><p>Thank you for all the faves, by the way! I hope you enjoyed this chapter as much as the last... Yeah, xD I know the "Cim Cardashian" joke was bad. Oh and THANK YOU for the tips on writing, Mighty Ant and Miss Carrera. And to all those reviewers who loved it and gave me motivation!<p>

TRANSLATIONS:

Voi stolti lento: You slow fools

Okay, so che lei sarà la mia grande forte ragazzo. Vi amo, ora e per sempre. : I know you will be okay, my big strong boy. I love you, now and forever.

Ti voglio bene. Buona notte a mama. : I love you, too. Goodnight, mother.


	3. Meet

UGH! I am SO sorry! I feel like the worst updater EVER! :( Well, here's a good sized chapter for you! Now I'm actually making my OC and Frani meet... So yeah I hope you like her pesonality! Enjoy! :)

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><p><strong>Chapter Three: Meet<strong>

_(Francesco's POV)_

I drove... no, sped to the Autodromo Nazionale Monza. I, personally, had no idea why I went. I still wasn't one hundred percent. Whatever medication they gave me really did a number on me.

I got in with my card, and slowly proceeded through the gates toward the track. I entered on the side, which was very open. I proceeded down a ramp, and saw some landscapers eyes widen in confusion.

Today was the first Tuesday of the month, so that meant the track was open for racers, even from other countries. None of the fans knew this, only the racers, chiefs and main administrators. Since I couldn't race, I drove down near the track and rested my axles on a small platform to watch them.

There were about ten cars on the track, most weren't Formula 1, I was pretty sure they were just rookies. Most of them couldn't get those simple turns right. I did notice one red orange and green F6000 car, though, he seemed familiar, and he was bearing the number 10 on his sides. I tried to recall where I saw him, but my mind came up blank.

The drugs were finally starting to wear off, because I started realizing where I was and what I was doing. Why did I come here in the first place? Why am I watching these rookies run laps on the track I've mastered so much, that it's boring to race? _What_ am I talking about?

I shook myself awake and looked up. I caught a glimpse of her slowing down, looking at me in worry.

It was her. Emilia Turbo. It was like I saw an old friend again, even though I just winked at the girl, we never actually talked!

She placed a small smile on her bumper then sped up and continued driving. Now, I started watching her. She was incredible! She had declined from first to fifth place when she slowed down to look at me, but now she had already gained it back. By now, she wasn't only in first, but she was zooming ahead. And the thing that got to me was that she wasn't even trying her hardest!

I saw her sigh and roll into the pits, taking a sip of oil. I was still staring at her, and she glanced over at me. I smiled a bit, but felt a weird pain in my stupid chin again. I winced and cursed under my breath.

When I looked up again, she was already heading my way. Oh my manufacturer, yes! Wait. I can barely speak. And I look fat and punched up. Oh no please.

"'No please' what?" she asked in confusion.

"Wait I said-a that out loud?" Ow.

"Yes... You were like, 'Oh no, please!'" she responded slowly, as if I was mentally challenged. She had a very slight Italian accent, but it was mostly American. I bet if she had lived out here in Italia, she would sound like everyone else. But that's what happens when you live with people who speak differently. You start to, too. But I liked it. It was insanely cute on her.

"Oh." was all I could manage to say.

"Also, when I was racing, you were sitting there, talking. Well I saw your lips moving. Were you on the phone?"

"Umm... No."

"Who were you talking to?" she asked innocently out of curiosity.

"No one. Was I-a saying something? I don't-a recall..." Pain.

"I heard you say, 'boring to race... what am I talking about'". Now she was looking at me like I was some alien life form.

"I was saying that-a out loud?" Oh shoot.

"Yeah, I guess so, hey you landed pretty hard on that wing of yours at the race on Saturday. You okay?"

I was grateful to her for changing the subject. "Oh, yes, thank-a you for asking. My jaw is-a aching a bit, though, but don't worry about me, I'll be fine. So, it's Emilia Turbo, is it?" Ow ow _ow._

"Yes. But, please, everyone calls me Emily. What is your name?"

I tensed up. She didn't know who I was? No one's really asked me what my name was in the past 10 years! She was really starting to get on my nerves.

"Aha! I got you! You _actually _believed me, Francesco Bernoulli? Surprise." she said my name perfectly, with all the syllables stretched out. Not like the fan girls, no. Like my family members, my mother and my 50,000 aunts, uncles, and cousins. I rolled my eyes.

"Hmm. Funny. Charming." Was all I could manage to say at the moment.

"You don't seem like your usual self. Are you _sure_ you're okay?" she asked sincerely this time. She was pushing my buttons... badly, and that's not good, so I brought up another subject.

"Yes, yes, don't-a worry about me. So you're-a pretty good out there. How long have-a you been racing?" I couldn't stand the pain anymore.

"Oh, about 5 years, I run in the American Formula 1 series, it's nothing big or exciting. I hope to move out here so that I can join real Formula 1."

"You're just-a visiting? How-a long are you staying?"

"Yes, my parents are originally from here, and they had me here, but we moved out to America, because of racing, and politics, a bunch of mumbo-jumbo. So we're staying for three months to visit family and friends." she explained.

"I think-a that you will have-a no problem with getting into the races." I gave her a soft smile.

"Oh, thank you! You're such a sweetie. But, I'm not so sure... I'm definitely not as good as you."

Was this a challenge? "Well then, I guess let's-a find out!" I said with enthusiasm. "I'll race you, Emily Turbo."

Her eyes widened with shock. "What? Here? Now?"

"Why not?" I revved my engine a couple times, and I slowly swerved around her, turning towards the track. My chin barely hurt now, as I was filled with adrenaline.

I could tell she was trying to hold back a massive smile, which meant she agreed.

"A one lap race, fair and square, you know the rules." she told me as we headed toward the starting line.

"Right." I didn't want to say anything sarcastic.

"And DON'T let me win for the sake of manners! Do not go easy on me, men always do that to me."

"So you want-a to lose?" I shot back quickly.

"I just want a challenge." she responded surely.

"And a challenge you will get!" I promised.

We quickly positioned ourselves at the starting line, and I could tell she was going to put her heart in soul into this race, simply because good racers do that. Maybe she was better than I thought.

The lights turned green and we were off. Although I could roll faster, and had more velocity, she was lighter and aced the turns better than me. So we both had our advantages. We were now finishing the last turn, and we were neck and neck. Earlier, I was going easier on her, but now she was gaining too much track, so I sped up next to her. She saw me, looked at me mischievously, and sped even faster. By now, I had the "pedal-to-the-metal", but it wasn't enough to zoom past her. I definitely was giving it my all, but she won by two tires' length.

We stopped abruptly, and caught our breaths, then she told me, "I know you went easy on me... You let me win." Then she looked up at me and noticed that I had bewilderment and frustration on my features.

"I didn't." I said slowly, trying not to yell.

She burst out in laughter. "Either you're a good actor or a bad racer, if you can beat me!"

I would have been ranting at another racer by now, but she was a lady, and she did turn the mood around, bringing the insult onto herself.

I smiled a bit to let her know I wasn't really agitated anymore. "You're-a not a bad racer, you beat-a me!"

"Well, you're not at your best..." she looked at the sky and ground. God, she was so cute.

"I'll-a challenge you again! Tomorrow! Francesco promises!" and I gave her a wink.

"Deal. Can't wait! Bye!" she said as she started driving back to the lockers.

"See you."

I watched her drive around the corner then I turned and started heading towards the exit with an honestly happy grin on my face that hasn't been there in a long time.

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><p>I'm sorry about the bad updating... My sister had to go to the hospital and all, for real, but she's totally ok. My sister has always had some medical problems, that's why I liked to do the connection with Francesco's experience in the hospital.<p>

Yeah, it's Rip Clutchgoneski at the track! I've suddenly turned into a fan-girl for Rip...

From my knowledge, there is no American team in the REAL Formula 1 racing series, so I just made up and American Formula 1 series. Yes, there once was a USF1 Team that tried to enter in the REAL series a couple years ago, but they gave up at the last minute. You notice how Francesco doesn't talk in the third person when he's talking to Emily? :) :D :P


	4. Doubt

Here's chapter quattro! Thank you to all who reviewed! My sister is doing fine, so don't worry about her. MissCarrera: I hope I did better with the tense, thank you for the advice. Francesco'sGirl: Yay! I'm so glad you like it! :D

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><p><strong>Chapter Four: Doubt<strong>

_(Francesco's POV)_

When I got home, I kissed my mother on her cheek, told her I was going back to my house, thanked her, packed my things, and left.

After a 10 minute drive, I get home, shower, gently brush my teeth, and go to bed. As I lay, I couldn't help but think to myself how obvious it was that I was falling for this girl. I knew it sounded cheesy, and many cars have said this before me, but this one felt different. Maybe it _was _something else. Love at first sight?

Who was I kidding? I've had relationships with hundreds of female cars, and they've all ended in one thing: failure. Why should Emily Turbo be any different? I knew the vicious cycle of love: She notices me, she does something to make me notice her, we flirt, we "fall in love", she (or I) do something stupid, she gets me annoyed, she gets annoyed at me, and then break up.

But what made this different was how it wasn't going like the "normal" cycle. _I _had noticed _her_, something very uncommon because I had to admit, it was usually the other way around.

I couldn't go to sleep at all, I hate this feeling where you were tired, but couldn't sleep. So I continued to ponder about my experiences with love. I wondered, if I was falling for her this hard, this early, I couldn't imagine having a break-up. Maybe I could just stop this before it began, so no one would get hurt. Or maybe I was over-thinking this, maybe she just wanted to be my friend. How did I know if she liked me? But then again, who wouldn't? I laugh at my proud self.

I decide to play it cool tomorrow, see how she acts around me, and experiment a bit. The satisfaction of knowing that my day was going to go well tomorrow was enough to get me to sleep.

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><p>I open my eyes and find that I'm idling on an old, rickety, white porch that had chipping paint and old tire marks all over it. I look around the big porch and notice things like old plant pots with dead flowers perched on the railing, a bird feeder with nothing in it, little Volkswagen Bugs circling then landing on a pitcher full of lemonade, a wooden wind chime only producing two notes, and a rusty old beach chair sulking in the corner.<p>

I look outward to the front yard, and saw a yard with nothing but yellow, overgrown weeds and a foot-tall and faded Italian flag twitching from the breeze. I slowly do a 360, and look at the doorway of the old house in front of me. I cautiously enter the mysterious house and see things like old newspaper articles, magazine covers, posters... all about me.

"Hello?" I shout. "Is there anyone home?"

No response.

There was a timeline hung up in the hallway, and I see pictures of me growing older and older.

I notice my heartbeat starting to accelerate, and I look down at my hood. I'm colored a very faded red, and I don't have any wings. I start breathing heavily, and I notice a mirror in the kitchen. I slowly approach it, a bit scared of what I would see. My eyes grow wide as I look at the droopy old car in front of me. Most of his modifications are gone, and his eyes look scared and shocked.

That _couldn't _be me. I'm not 100 years old!

I had no idea what I was doing, but I burst out the door and into the lonely country lane in front of my house. There was nothing but deserted farmland around me. I drove around in frustration, and noticed a purplish blob heading towards my way. I squint my eyelids to get a better look, as I didn't have good eyesight. It got closer and I saw that it was two separate cars. One was blue and one was red. They got closer and closer, and I soon began to realize who they were. It was Lightning and Sally! But Lightning had a top hat on and Sally had a wedding gown!

"Hey! Guys!" I shouted at the top of my lungs. As they approached, they got bigger and bigger.

"What's-a happening?" but my cries of terror wouldn't suffice. They kept growing bigger and bigger and closer and closer.

I scream one last time before the happily married couple ran me over.

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><p>I shrieked and fell off the bed, hitting my chin.<p>

"Ugh..." I start to open my eyes but pull them back from the bright sun shining on my hood. I must of forgotten to close the shades. I back up to get out of the sun, then hit my rear end on a table, causing it and all my belongings on it to fall to the ground. Now that I was in the shade I notice how I had woken up in a cold sweat, and how badly my chin was throbbing. I open my eyes and regain my consciousness, remembering the horrible nightmare I had last night.

As I tidy up the mess I made, I think about the meaning of my hallucination. I probably lived in that house, all alone, my career most likely in ruins, in the middle of nowhere. What was that supposed to mean? Then here comes along you-know-who with his "bride" and they kill me. Am I _not _supposed to be confused?

I maneuvered over to my kitchen and chugged a quart of oil down, then took two Aspirins for my jaw. My phone buzzed with an alarm so I picked it up and read, 'You're going to be late if you don't start getting ready!' I sighed and remembered setting it last night.

I kicked it into gear and took a quick shower, brushed my teeth, said some confidence-boosting words to myself, and headed out the door.

It was a beautiful spring morning in Monza, not too many people bothering me or crowding around me, so I could tell it was going to be a good one. I headed into my favorite bakery to buy some authentic Italian Easter Bread, because it would be rude to show up with nothing. I had manners when I felt like it.

I finally arrived at the track and saw her waiting by the entrance. "Salve!" I called to her. "How long-a did I keep-a you waiting?"

"Ciao, don't worry, not long." she said with a smile.

"Did you sleep well?"

"Fine, thank you for asking. How 'bout you?"

"Good." I lied. "I smelled this on my way down and just thought you had to try this." I gave her the bag.

"Oh my goodness! What is this?"

"Oh, just a little-a something, some Easter Bread, a true taste of-a Monza! Be careful, don't-a eat too much. It's-a my favorite and when I get it, I can't-a put it down!" I said as I opened the door with my card.

"Oh, grazie! Thank you _so _much! My mother used to make this when I was little, and I sort of miss it."

"Oh, you're an only child?" I asked as we headed down the ramp.

"Yes, I was spoiled. They didn't really want me to race because I was a girl, they were afraid that I would get hurt."

"Oh I know how that-a feels. After-a my father died, my mother didn't-a want me to go _near _a racetrack. But-a you know, if it's in-a your blood... "

"You can't resist the speed." she finished.

We both stood there and smiled at each other for a second.

"Oh, here! I got you something, too!" she interrupted the moment and handed me a paper bag. "It's just some of my father's aged gasohol. My family's special vinoil."

"Ah," I was impressed. "Molto speciale. Sono sicuro che questo godo!"

A bit of blush formed on her cheeks. "Thank you for being my coach."

"It's-a my pleasure. So, you-a ready to race?" I said as I tapped my tires lightly on the pavement.

She looked at me mischievously. "The real question is, are you?"

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><p>Yeah vinoil is vino and oil combined. It's all that I could come up with. xD<p>

TRANSLATIONS:

Salve: Hello

Ah, molto speciale. Sono sicuro che questo godo: Ah, very special. I'm sure I will enjoy this.


	5. Perceive

Sorry about the slow updates, I got sick and got behind on homework... That's life. This one took a while to make, with all the research, but it was by far the most fun chapter to write. Nals: Hehe, sorry the dream confused you, try to put all the clues together: Francesco alone, Lightning & Sally together, Francesco has no wife... It means he was a bachelor, even at that very old age. So it meant he would stay a bachelor forever. It was a sign brought to him, but with his stubbornness, he ignored it. Hope you're on board now ^.^

Once again, I don't own Cars, and you all know who owns it, yadda yadda yadda. On with the show!

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><p><strong>Chapter Five: Perceive<strong>

_(Francesco's POV)_

We raced and practiced and flirted for what seemed like only a few minutes. She beat me several times, but I was feeling better so I let her win a couple of times. I gave her my advice that I had learned from my mama and crew chief. Together we tasted the Easter bread and vinoil. She loved it and I loved to see her eyes light up. I tried her family's special mixture, and I wasn't surprised at how good it was. It was very sweet, like her. So I gave her my best compliments.

After a while, we were both tired, so we stopped racing and took a drive around the stadium. I wished I could make more eye contact with her, but every time I looked into her piercing aqua eyes, my soul melted and I was lifted off the ground, making me speechless.

"Do you-a come to Italia often?" I asked her out of curiosity.

"I visit every year. This year my parents decided to come. I love America, and all my dear family and close friends that live there, but there's a feeling I get when I'm in Italy that I just can't ignore."

Family and... friends? My engine sunk, and I felt a wave of sadness envelop me. "Oh, you are-a seeing someone?" I was almost afraid to hear her answer.

"Oh, no, no! I mean I did before, but that was a few years back..." she said cautiously.

Now my oil pressure went up with happiness, and I tried my best to keep an immense smile off my lips. I felt a pang of jealousy, for who could else could love her like I would? I needed her and her only. I was falling madly in love with her; I just hoped I wouldn't say something stupid and screw the whole thing up. There wasn't a single word in my vocabulary that would sum up how I felt for her, even if this was just my second time seeing her. Who was I, the glorious Francesco Bernoulli to doubt and be cautious about love because I was afraid of heartbreak? I made a silent promise to myself: she would be mine and mine forever. Nothing could hold me back from her.

She startled me again, waking me up from my daydream. "But the reason why I haven't moved here yet was because I can't leave my parents; my mother has a battery condition, so I'm too worried about her to leave her alone."

"Oh my goodness, she'll-a be fine, I'm sure."

"Yeah she's a tough cookie, she never wants me to worry about her." her ravishing smile almost melted me to pieces.

"Yes, I-a know exactly how you-a feel." I tried to stay focused on the conversation, not her eyes, or lips, or body figure.

"So... how's your chin doing?"

"Oh, it's-a healing nicely. I know that-a big bruise is-a still there, but I'm in-a no pain. I can eat and-a talk, two of my favorite things! So I am-a happy!" I bounced up and down a couple of times.

She charmingly giggled and raised her "eyebrow" at me.

This boosted my confidence. "Speaking of-a eating, Francesco is-a very hungry from all that-a racing. Would you like-a to go and-a grab a bite to eat with-a me?"

She happily rolled her eyes. "Who wouldn't?"

"Grande. I know just-a the place."

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><p>We pulled up in front of Nastari's Bistro, which specializes in soups and salads, the perfect place for lunch. It was just a down-home, hole in the wall, but it was excruciatingly charming, and the food was delectable. I raise my tire at it proudly. "This is it, <em>Nastari's<em>," I said, emphasizing the 'ah' in it. "the best place to go to for lunch."

"This place?" she studies the old, faded building with its cracked paint, ivy embracing the sides, and flower pots with flowers in them colored green, white, and red. She eyed it one more time, then she beams at me and says, "I like it."

She was probably expecting me to take her to one of my ostentatious Italian eateries, but it was fun to surprise her. "You just-a wait until you taste-a their meal." I reassured her.

I open the door and let her in first, and a bell rings above the door upon our entrance. There was only two cars dining in the corner. A small green 1969 Casalini Sulky type II pokes up from under the counter. "Ah! Francesco! È così bello vedere voi! Che cosa sono voi che fate qui su questo lato della città?"

"Charlie! È bene vedere anche voi! Io sono qui per un delizioso pranzo con la mia valutazione, Emilia Turbo." I say proudly.

He raises his chin and narrows his eyes at me. Then he looks at Emily. "Salve vi splendido. È stato questo folle uomo mostra a voi tutto il giorno?" I rolled my eyes at him.

She chuckled at looked at me. "Un pochino. Ma non mi aspettavo questo." Her Italian was perfect. Although it had a bit of that American touch to it, I wasn't saddened. Charlie and I laughed at her response.

Mrs. Nastari, a yellow 1946 Cisitalia 202, came out and asked, "Charles, chi sta parlando a?" She eyed me and Emily. "Francesco! Dove sei stato? E chi è questa giovane donna bellissima che avete con voi?"

"Ciao Anna, questa è l'Emilia Turbo, siamo venuti per uno spuntino." I re-introduced Emily.

"Salve, Signorina Nastari." said Emily.

"Salve, sono molto lieto di incontrare voi, Emilia." Anna replied with a smile. "Well, what are-a we waiting for? Let's-a get you seated!"

We had a delightful lunch. Both of us had soup. Emily ordered a gas-pacho drizzled with power-steering fluid, while I stuck with my favorite, the transmission consomme, which was good for healing my chin. I was talking about my favorite types of rims, and we were about almost done, when the bell rang and the door opened.

Emily gasped and her eyes widened at the car who rode in. She let out a small gasp, letting the sides of her mouth curve upward.

I slowly stopped talking, then backed up and turned myself to see who it was. A dark grey Pontiac G8 bustled in, panting heavily. I gave the car a puzzled and annoyed look.

He looked at Emily with a huge smile on his face. "Em! I've been looking all over for you!" the male declared with a satisfied expression.

I looked back at Emily and saw her roll her eyes playfully. "Well you could of called..."

I decided to intervene out of pure agitation. I raised my chassis, and proclaimed, "Am I _missing_-a something here?" I eyed both of them rapidly. The Pontiac was jaw dropped, his bumper an inch away from the floor. Emily looked apologetic, and she opened her mouth to speak.

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><p>Sorry about all the Italian, I just had to have it. Haha, don't you just love the feeling where you're brainstorming, and suddenly, the lightbulb clicks? :D I know you're all confused, but you shall find out in the next chapter! Please review meanwhile!<p>

TRANSLATIONS:

Grande: Great (not grand LOL)

È così bello vedere voi! Che cosa sono voi che fate qui su questo lato della città?: It is so good to see you! What are you doing over here on this side of town?

È bene vedere anche voi! Io sono qui per un delizioso pranzo con la mia valutazione, Emilia Turbo: It is good to see you too! I'm here for a delightful lunch with my guest, Emilia Turbo.

Salve vi splendido. È stato questo folle uomo mostra a voi tutto il giorno?: Hello there gorgeous. Has this numbskull been showing off to you all day?

Un pochino. Ma non mi aspettavo questo: Maybe a bit. But I was not expecting this.

Charles, chi sta parlando a?: Charles, who are you talking to?

Dove sei stato? E chi è questa giovane donna bellissima che avete con voi?: Where have you been? And who is this lovely young lady you have with you?

Ciao Anna, questa è l'Emilia Turbo, siamo venuti per uno spuntino: Hi Anna, this is Emilia Turbo, we have come for a snack.

Salve, Signorina Nastari: Hello, Mrs. Nastari


	6. Encounter

Hey guys! :P Well, now I have something different for you. I know I left you on that confusing cliffhanger last time, so now I thought it would be easier to put this chapter in EMILY'S POV! Yep, here's a look inside what's going on in her mind. And the next chapter WILL NOT be Francesco's POV of this chapter, I don't feel like re-writing it, and it best to continue on with the story. Thanks for the reviews again, I really appreciate that you appreciate my writing! ;D

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><p><strong>Chapter Six: Encounter<strong>

_(Emily's POV)_

I couldn't help but gaze and fantasize while looking at Francesco's resplendent brown eyes. I loved how when he was talking, he would move around and have so much expression. I noticed that as he spoke, his glorious eyes would widen, then close halfway, which set a match to my heart. He'd smile, constantly move his tires, and his laugh would daze me. He had such an unusual magnetic personality. I couldn't believe how lucky I was to be here with him. Now I knew why girls claw at his tires.

The sound of a bell ringing abruptly brought me back to earth from Francesco-land. Instinctively, I looked where the sound of the bell was coming from. A familiar-looking Pontiac bustled in, panting. I looked more closely at him and saw it was Daniel! What was he doing here? I heard a small gasp escape from me.

Francesco slowly stopped talking, and in the corner of my eye I saw him turn towards the door. Daniel looked at me with wide and happy eyes, then he announced, "Em! I've been looking all over for you!"

I had to smile and roll my eyes at how he was panting, he looked like he just ran a marathon. "Well, you could of called..." I told him, it _was _rude of him to come in out of nowhere while I'm having lunch. Yes, of course he came to Italy with me, he was my best friend, he had to come, but I'd just seen him at the track two days ago. We were racing with the other competitors on that Tuesday, the day I first spoke to... Francesco... Just _thinking_ of his name sent a lightning bolt through my engine.

By now I had forgotten about Francesco, but he wasn't one to be left out of a conversation, so I heard him announce, "Am I _missing_-a something here?"

Trying not to get him too worked up, I answered immediately. "Oh, I'm so sorry! Francesco, I would like you to meet Daniel Fascia, we're very close, we've known each other since high school. " I looked over at Daniel and saw his bumper on the ground.

"Ff-rancescc-o... Bernoulli?" he sputtered in astonishment. He looked at me then Francesco then back. He wasn't helping the situation.

Francesco's look shifted from annoyed, to saddened, to outraged. But I could tell he was trying very hard to hold the ranting. He remained silent, waiting for Daniel to say more.

Daniel closes his windshield and shakes his front end. "I'm sorry, what I meant to say was, nice to meet you, I came here with Em and her parents for a couple of months, we're just visiting." he stammered mindlessly.

"Um, nice-a to meet you too...?" Francesco said awkwardly.

I could tell the tenseness was increasing, so I filled Francesco up with some more details. "He was racing with me the other day on the track, he left before you came."

"Yeah," Daniel added, "I got tired, and my engine overheated, so I had to go rest. Couldn't keep up with her!" he widened his eyes and laughed. He was always the one to count on if you need your spirits lifted.

Francesco immediately changed moods (he does that often, he's a good actor) and added, "Yes, believe it-a or not, she beat-a me a couple of-a times at a one-on-one today!" He looked over at me with his usually half-closed eyes, and I turned into mush.

"Oh you guys went down to the track today?" he looked over at me.

"Yeah, ran a couple of laps, he gave me instruction, then we both got hungry and came here for lunch." I smiled at Francesco, and he winked.

"Well, you up for the football game tonight? I got tickets, I was going to invite your dad," he nodded over to me, "but since Francesco's already here, what do you say, Bernoulli?" He had a huge smile on his face, he's just a big kid, always looking for fun.

"Well, I don't-a know, I mean, doesn't-a your father want-a to go? It would be rude of me to steal his-a tickets." he said cautiously.

"Naw, come on, he's been to lots of soccer games, please come with us!" I assured him.

"Yeah, come on, it'll be LOTS OF FUN!" Danny said a bit too loud.

Francesco cringed at his loud remark. "Alright! Francesco will go!"

"Yessss!" Daniel and I both said in unison.

* * *

><p>A few hours later, we met up at the Autodromo, and we took a high-speed rail to the Giuseppe Meazza Stadium in Milan. The trip took us roughly 35 minutes because of the fans taking the train, too. I couldn't believe how Francesco swooped down to earth with us, he talked to Daniel and I, laughed with us, all on this very crowded train. Sure, cars came up to him constantly and talked to him, and asked for autographs and photos, but he just handed them a picture that he had autographed previously, he pulled them out of a compartment in his side. This was unusual. Daniel and I watched him trying his best to stay patient while squealing fans crowd among him. It seemed like he would never run out of photos.<p>

"You keep those with you, to hand out?" Danny asked out of confusion. "I mean it's smart, but weird."

Francesco and I laughed at him. "Well, try-a putting yourself in-a Francesco's tires, isn't it-a the easiest thing to do? It keeps-a them quiet, happy, and away from-a me. Besides," he said in a lower voice,"here's a secret: They aren't-a really signed, you think I would-a kill my axles doing that? No, is-a photo-copy."

All three of us laughed together out of sheer pride, you felt like you were on top of the world when you were with Francesco Bernoulli.

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><p>GOD it's hard to describe a car's expression! They can't wriggle their eyebrows, scrunch their nose, dance, or even sit! :( Frustration. FOOTBALL is SOCCER in Italy, I bet you knew that but you forgot. YES cars can play soccer, hello, back tires, drifting? Wee fun! Meet Daniel! Fun car parts fact: Fascia pretty much means dashboard, it's fun to say: fascia, fascia, fascia. Plus it sounds Italian. So yeah. Ok. Review. Bye!<p> 


	7. Uncertain

Chappy seven! Yay, I am very happy, because I got my first anonymous review! I'm glad you'll be following it all the way, Kim! Yeah, SweetPSixteen you shall see lots of that... Hm, what type of drama shall I create next? MissCarrera, I went back and changed that embarrassing insult to Cars. And, Francesco's Girl: Hopefully you won't be disappointed...

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><p><strong>Chapter Seven: Uncertain<strong>

_(Francesco's POV)_

Even though it wasn't my way of going to a soccer game, it was still fun to swoop down to a fan's level. Well, almost a fan's level. If people wouldn't constantly crowd me. I'd gotten used to it long ago, but I was hoping that Emily and Daniel wouldn't get too frustrated with it. I was glad I'd thought ahead - the "pre-autographed" photos. Sure, it was stupid and geeky, but it was time saving and useful.

Before we knew it, it was game time. It was nearing the end of the season, and this game was to determine if Italia was going to the playoffs. I liked to yell at the players when they did things wrong. Emily occasionally whistled and cheered. Daniel just screamed at everything and everyone through the whole game.

It was coming to an end almost two hours later. The game was very close, but to my dismay, Italy didn't win. No more. As we slowly proceeded out of the stadium, most of us were quiet. Daniel looked like he was about to cry. It was getting me kind of ticked off, because it _was_ just a game, and Italia _has _won the championship before. Maybe it was a good idea to give another country a chance...

"You know, it's-a not the end of-a the world..." I told Daniel a bit too firmly.

Emily looked over at me in surprise. With his bottom lip pouting a bit, Daniel responded, "It would of been cool if they won," he sighs, "it IS the first time I've been here to Italy."

"Well I can sort of-a see that, considering all of-a those souvenirs-a you bought..." he had bags hanging off his spoiler and rear view mirrors.

Emily suddenly burst with laughter which made the both of us jump. "Camel! You look ridiculous!" She howled with laughter as Daniel looked to the ground and pouted even more. I chuckled a couple of times; honestly, where did she find this guy, and why did she hang out with him?

Once we were done with our laughs, I immediately made a very serious face at Emily. "Let's-a lead the caravan north, to your place of-a residence." We split our sides in laughter, even Daniel managed to loosen up and started chuckling too. My chin was still aching a bit, it hurt every now and then when I smiled constantly.

Camera lights suddenly flashed at us, and I was blinded as I looked over to see who it was. I squinted my eyes, knowing they got a couple of hideous ones of me looking straight at the camera. Great, more lies. My oil boiled, and I cursed at them in Italian from instinct as they drove away.

I heard gasps escaping behind me. Still outraged, I turned and saw several pairs of eyes looking at me, which included Emily's and Daniel's. I closed my eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. What had I done? Why had I gone and cursed so violently at them? I've never done that before. Well maybe I have but definitely not in a crowd like this. And in front of... Emily? Why had I let my selfishness take me over like that? I was supposed to be a gentleman, what was she thinking right now? I felt a bolt of regret electrify me. The silence droned on, Emily and I just looking into each other's eyes for what seemed like an eternity. Her aqua eyes seemed darker now, and it wasn't because it was night time.

"I..." I began, "Better get-a going now, I have to-a go practice tomorrow..." I lied.

She batted her eyelids and looked around and her eyes met mine once more. "Okay, yeah, okay, this was fun. We'll have to do it again, eh?"

"Yes, thank-a you for inviting me." I looked over at Daniel. "Grazie, I had-a great time." Although I was sort of bummed, I remembered my manners, something I had a feeling that I wouldn't forget for a while. "I'll-a walk you to your-a hotel, though."

"Oh, okay then, thank you very much." Emily said awkwardly without looking at me.

The drive to their resort was pretty much quiet all the way through, Daniel saying a few things to Emily and asking me a couple of questions.

As we approached the dimly-lit, giant adobe hotel, Daniel said he had to go to the bathroom, so Emily handed him the key and he rushed ahead. It became more quiet with an engine gone.

She broke the silence by asking, "Were you frustrated because Italia didn't win?"

I exhaled deeply, I was careful not to say something stupid, for talking to her made me nervous nonetheless, and I feared of what would come out of my mouth if I wasn't careful. "No, not-a really." I answered honestly.

She remained silent, waiting for me to say more. I stopped cruising suddenly, which made my tires squeak in protest. I wanted to apologize, to look her in the eyes and tell her I was disappointed in the manner I behaved, that I truly regretted what I did. "Emilia, you should-a know what it's-a like to constantly be followed, no?"

"I know what it's like," she nodded.

"For ten years?"

"Well..."

"And-a to do lots of things your mother wouldn't approve of?"

"... Sort of?"

"Are you the most successful race car in Europe?"

"No." I could see confusion in her eyes.

"I know..." Why was this so _hard_ to admit? "I know I may seem-a very... arrogant... on the outside, yes?" She nodded once again. "I'm-a proud, too proud. Emilia, I love-a racing, I love-a the attention I-a get. But, I, Francesco Bernoulli, in my... grand... and-a admirable ego, have-a to admit, it all gets-a very tiring after a while."

She looked at me with a side smile, and stayed quiet, letting me speak.

"Recently, it's-a been, just-a dreadful, I've-a been under pressure, and I can't-a run in a real race because of-a my injury, and I've-a been ignoring all these invitations to all-a these events, and it just-a piles up," I couldn't find a good use of English words, so I continued by using my native, "Io sono sotto un sacco di pressione, e ora questo è accaduto, mi portò oltre il bordo." I looked down at my tires in shame.

"Hm, it seems that you're not receiving much credit recently, and you're being asked to do all of these things, which, I admit, can be stressful, especially when you have an injury, but, if you want me to be genuine about what I tell you, I think that you are used to giving a little, then receiving a lot."

I thought that through, yes, it was true, I had a "job" I loved: racing, and if you were good at it (and possibly good-looking), you could have yourself one heck of a career. Maybe she was right, I worked too little and received too much. On the other hand, I couldn't help the admiration of my fans, I couldn't help if I was a good racer, I _couldn't help_ if I was so handsome! Who was _she_ to say I was lazy? I looked over at her, and saw that she detected I was getting annoyed.

"Don't you dare say I'm not right." she looked at me sternly.

I sighed in defeat, looking up at her with pouted lips and a furrowed 'eyebrow'. "You _are_ right-a, but you're-a the same way, right?"

My battery skipped a beat as she laughed and flashed a bewitching smile at me. "I used to be, but I found Daniel again, and he brought joy into my life, I had someone to love."

"Someone to love?"

"Yes, as a friend, someone who can love you too. You're nothing without love."

I considered that last sentence: nothing. I have love in my life: my mother, my family, my fans, possibly some of my friends from a few years back...? Yes, the first two were definitely true, my mama is always there for me, the huge Bernoulli family is proud, and there's lots of love... at Christmas, or re-unions, when I see them. But love from my fans wasn't _real _love, they loved me for my racing skills, or smile. But who could love me for all those things _and then some?_ I was tired of having short relationships and one-night-stands. I wanted someone who would be there for me through it all.

I admit, I have tried to get into true relationships a couple of times, but they never worked out. Yes, I've had my fun. Maybe I was tired of being a bachelor, maybe I want a family. Was it bad karma, that I would never find that special someone? I thought all of this as I gazed into her aqua eyes. Maybe that person was right in front of me.

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><p>Yay for fluff! Francesco (AKA Fresco, as Francesco's Girl and I call him xD, yes Fresco means fresh in Italian, and it is sooo cocky, so it fits him) doesn't seem happy as to where his life is headed, maybe he'll get the meaning of the dream soon? He's falling for her, dude!<p>

TRANSLATIONS:

Io sono sotto un sacco di pressione, e ora questo è accaduto, mi portò oltre il bordo: I am under a lot of pressure, and now this has happened, and it brought me over the edge.


	8. Falling

HAPPY EASTER! Here's your basket with goodies.

F's Girl: Yes, I shall always mention you LOL still am! Nals: No foo! She doesn't love Daniel! Yes, Francesco was frustrated. Haha. Frustrated. Haha. Francesco. Kim: Yep, they both sit in the same position, so they can understand each other and work things out! So cute! :3 MissCarrera: I am not you! :( But I will try my best! Thank you for the help! However, I feel this story's moving a bit too slow, so I'll make it pick up the pace around chapter 11 or 12, there's a plot point coming up. Gasp! A plot! Lol.

Haha I was feeling rebellious so I wrote out some more mischievous fuzz. ^.^ Possible squealing of fangirls ahead. Here's another chapter of Emily, I hope you like her POVs. Ok, cars can smell, so son't say anything about "Oh Emily/Francesco doesn't have a nose, so how can she/he smell?" Heads up again, I don't own Cars. I'm not gonna say anything else worthless. Oh wait that sentence saying to not say anything worthless was worthless. So was that one. OMG in the end I ended up writing more! This language is screwed. Goodbye. (Worthless again.)

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><p><strong>Chapter Eight: Falling<strong>

_(Emily's POV)_

I watched him gaze at me in admiration with a dreamy look in his eyes. I swear if I hang out with him any longer, I'm going to have a battery attack.

To prevent it, I stated something obvious: "You don't have practice tomorrow, do you?"

He jumped slightly and responded, "Hm? Oh, I, uh... no."

"You're being mighty slow..." I laughed.

"_Slow?_ You call-a _Francesco __slow_?" he was filled with fake anger, I could tell he was playing around.

"Oh my, I'm in for it!" I rolled my eyes with fake annoyance.

"Definitely in-a for it." he said in a low, alluring voice. He smiled that half-open-eyes smile that would normally drive any female car insane.

I rolled my eyes and shook my head. "Yeah I don't think so, nice try, I'm not falling for that."

He narrowed his eyes in confusion, and he started driving in a full circle around me, looking me over, which made me feel somewhat self-conscious. I swallowed the huge lump in my throat. He then parked next to me as our tires brushed slightly, giving me a tingly sensation through my whole body. He breathed heavily, and his breath swept off his wing to me. I closed my eyes and inhaled his scent. My eyes rolled in the direction of my spoiler.

"How slow is-a Francesco now?" he whispered.

My eyes were hazy as I opened them. His were too. I looked back at the devilish angel before me. Slow in movement at the moment, but quick in thought.

"Hey, Emily! What are you doing?" shouted Danny from afar. Francesco and I jumped apart, unaware of him. How long had he been watching us?

I looked over and scowled at him. "Yeah, ok, I'll be there!" I shouted in annoyance.

I focused back to Francesco and saw that he was observing me again; it made me unsteady.

"I have to go, my parents probably made dinner..." I never wanted to leave, I could stay here watching him forever.

He continued looking at me that same way, never keeping an eye off me. "Francesco understands. When-a can I see you again?"

"Well, tomorrow I'll be available in the late afternoon, how about dinner?"

"Perfetto. Ti sorprenderà ancora una volta."

I laughed. "Sono sicuro che."

"Fino ad allora, ciao mia bella." He smiled at me.

My cheeks grew hot and my heart ached already, I didn't want him to leave. "Ci vediamo!"

I watched him raise a tire in a wave, turn, then drive away.

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><p><em>(Still Emily's POV) At Dinner In The Hotel Room<em>

"Thank you mom, this is really good." I told my mother.

"Well, your-a father helped too. But not much." she told me quietly, not looking over to my father.

"I helped with-a the bread, I cut it, toasted it, and buttered it!" He protested in a silly way.

"What a _skill_!" I said with a laugh. My parents and Danny joined in.

After a moment's silence, my dad said, "So, how was the game? I'm-a sorry Italy didn't win, Daniel."

"Oh, it was lots of fun! Right Danny?" I gave Daniel the eye, hopefully he would take the hint to not say anything about that third ticket.

"Yeah, we screamed at the players." I think he got it.

"Wait, I thought-a we had three tickets, I swear I remember buying three..." my mother was very sharp; my father was too, but he was lazy.

What was I supposed to say? No? "Well, yeah..."

"So I did. What happened to that third ticket?" she asked suspiciously as she cut her meat.

I swallowed, and looked over at Daniel with wide eyes. My father noticed this. "Emily," he said, "just tell us what you did with it, or who you brought along. We won't get angry."

"Huh! Speak for yourself!" said my mother.

"Now, Katherina, Emily is a full grown-"

"Yeah OK, dad, we all know that. We brought along a friend."

"Oh, really? Who?" my mother poked.

"Let's make them guess!" said Daniel. "You know him, but you don't at the same time."

"What? That-a doesn't make any sense!" my father protested.

"Know him, but don't?" my mother thought.

"He's a native," I added.

"Has the same interest as Emily..." Daniel added, but that practically gave it away.

"He's a native, famous-a race car!" my mother said with excitement.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, _famous_? How did-a you... Why did he..." my dad stammered.

"Hello, dad, I have a career, too!"

"Yes, but not-a here in Italy..."

"Well who is it already?" my mom asked with anticipation.

"Francesco...!" Danny began.

"Bernoulli?" my dad finished.

"Yay! You got it!" I told them.

"You guys are friends?" asked my mother.

"Well, I saw him at the track when him (I pointed to Daniel) and I went for some laps."

"And he was there?"

"Yeah, and he wanted to be my coach, and then Danny came and asked if we wanted to go to the game, so Francesco said yes, and boom, we hit the speed-rail to Milan."

"I haven't heard many good things about that car," my dad said in disapproval. "I mean, yes he's an amazing racer, but-a sweetheart, he could use you, don't fall into his trap... You remember what happened last time you dated a car like that."

"Steveno! Come avete potuto dire una cosa del genere!" my mother scolded.

I suddenly became so angry and hot that I could barely speak. "He, I, _you haven't even met him!_ And who said _anything_ about dating?" I hissed. "I don't even want to _say anything!_ Why do you treat me like a _child?_ Honestly, _grasp_ the fact that I am _fully grown_, I mean you said so yourself!" I threw my fork down and sped out the room.

I drove into my bedroom, and slammed the door. I idled near the dresser for five minutes, just crying and taking pity on myself. I wanted to live my own life, mother with a battery condition or not. My mind was blank as my tears curled down my hood.

Reality hit me, and I stopped crying, I went over to the bathroom to wash myself up. As I passed by my closet, my wheel brushed against a pair of tires I left there yesterday. The same tingling from earlier this evening ran through me again, and my mind was set on Francesco Bernoulli.

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><p>I need to know if I should change the rating because of the scene in the earlier chapter, please. Should I? Or is it OK, because there's not going to be anything worse than that, promise! Ty!<p>

TRANSLATIONS:

Perfetto. Ti sorprenderà ancora una volta: Perfect. I'll surprise you again.

Sono sicuro che: I'm sure you will.

Fino ad allora, ciao mia bella: Until then, bye my beautiful one.

Ci vediamo: I'll see you.

Come avete potuto dire una cosa del genere!: How could you say such a thing!


	9. Selfish

Fresco's Girl: Ok, now I'm just mentioning you to make you happy. Things are moving on! :o Enjoy, mia bella ragazza. ;)

Nals: Thank you always for your support! (Movie moment!)

SweetP16: Well it's getting more interesting! Enjoyyyyyy!

Cars is copyright of PIXAR. Cue Luxo Jr. ghetto-stomping the I.

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><p><strong>Chapter Nine: Selfish<strong>

_(Emily's POV)_

I came out of the shower and turned on the TV to see if there was any sign of Francesco and I together. There was one short caption, showing a hideous picture of both of us, our paints a hideous pastel color from the camera lights. This bothered me, and I shifted with uncertainty. Was it really out on the news and gossip?

A small knock on the door erupted, and I quietly whispered for them to come in, it was past 12AM, and my parents were most likely asleep, so I assumed it was Daniel.

As I predicted, he came in looking down at the floor. "Hey..." he said quietly.

"Hey." I responded awkwardly.

"How are you?"

"Better."

"Sorry your parents can be sort of rough, you know mine are like that too."

"Yeah, it's the Italian, tough love."

The length of silence became expanded enough to turn awkward.

As I expected, he broke it. "Umm, Emily can I ask you a question?"

Unsure of what he was going at, I tried to add some stupid humor. "That _is_ a question."

He rolled his eyes and smiled a bit. "I've heard that one before," he looked into my eyes now, "but really, I was just wondering..." he sighed quickly in nervousness and looked at the ground. "If- if you are taking a liking to..." he swallowed, "Francesco?"

"Well, Dan... it's..."

"I saw how he looked at you, what were you guys saying when I left?"

"How he.. Wait, you were _spying _on us? For how long?" This was disgusting. He really needs to grow up and get his own life. To stop following me, pestering me, and getting out of my business! I took pity on the car, that's why I hung out with him. But I had a career and good reputation! If I wasn't careful, I could see how he could spoil it very easily.

"Well, I DID go to the bathroom, but just... couldn't resist and took a peek...?"

I drove out to the balcony in fury, or more for the need of fresh air. I gazed with furrowed 'eyebrows' at the homely yet dazzling Monza. The shining stars were campfires in the night sky. A light, warm breezed slipped through my air vents, and it gave me a relaxing feeling, calming me down a bit. A few seconds later, I heard his engine approaching. I continued to stare up at the stars.

"Emily, you're the best friend I've ever had. You've always been there for me when I needed you. You never turned me down, others think I am silly and didn't want to be with me. But not you, you befriended me. You're the sister I never had, and I worry about you. Sometimes I feel like a bother to you, and I'm sorry about that. I act silly, because, well, I use it to mask my... affection for you."

I stayed silent, waiting for him to continue. Of course I knew he'd always had feelings for me, but I never really had those types of feelings for him. As he said, we had sort of a more brother-sister relationship. This was all I wanted from him.

"Emilia Turbo, I know we're just friends, but I was hoping we could be more than that; again. Emily, I still love you!"

"Damn it, Daniel! I thought we went through this! Sure, we had a little something in high school but we both knew it wouldn't work, so we remained friends! And you promised it would always be that way! Why do you have to be so... Urgh! Forget it! I will be your friend, not your _GIRL_friend, I've told you that!" Why did I have a feeling of deja-vu?

"Don't date Francesco!" he blurted, and I could see his shock of what he just said. "Don't date him! He'll break your heart! He has millions of women to choose from, what makes you think he'll pick you? He hits-and-runs, he's a _rolling stone_! I won't hurt you! I'm trying to _prevent _you from heartbreak! I love you, and will always be there for you, why do _you_ have to be so stubborn? You're already blinded by his 'love'!" He shouts at me with gleaming eyes.

So this was what he was after? He didn't like Francesco? I was putting my tire down this time, I was tired of being pushed around, being told what to do, I didn't want to be the perfect girl anymore, I wanted to explore the world, be rebellious, seek new people, and _he_ was holding me back! This whole time! How did I not see it? So I told him what I thought.

"Just leave, stop trying to convince me to be with you. You can be so selfish sometimes, trying to keep me for yourself. I have a life, and maybe it's about time you get one too. Get a job, get a girl, stop fending off of my family and I. We never invited you to come along with us here to Italy, it was supposed to be a family trip. But you were blind, being your selfish self, and came anyway. Just get out of here." As soon as the words came out of my mouth, I remorsefully regretted them. What had I just said? How would this affect our relationship? I felt like I was the biggest dunce with a running engine. I would be happy if he took out a gun and shot me. I would be ecstatic if I went to hell, because I deserved the most unthinkable torture in the world right now. I had crushed a perfectly good friendship, possibly forever.

He looked at me like I was a hideously traumatic demon, an overwhelmed and staggered look in his eyes. His mouth gaped open like a fish, and the sound of his engine slowly started dying. His lips quivered, and he clenched his eyes shut and started bawling. Gasping for air, his wheels trembled furiously, his whole frame shaking, and he managed to maneuver out of my sight, out of my room, possibly, out of my life.

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><p>The light of the sun took me out of my trance, I didn't get a second of shut eye last night. IMy eyes burned and ached if I even just blinked them. I looked over at my clock. 1:26PM. All of my pillows were drenched in my tears, I was wet all over. I wish he could know that I knew I was a monster, I completely regretted every stupid little thing I said last night. He wasn't the selfish one. I was. Where was he now? I wanted him to be in his room, so I could at least maybe get a chance to tell him how I really feel, and I didn't at the same time, I do not blame him if he drove off, he deserved better than me. I would be happy for him if he's gone, he can move on, and I deserve to rot to death alone. It was over, my best friend is gone. I most likely would never see him again, and thinking this slid a knife into my side.<p>

I had been trying to cry some more for the past three hours, but I knew I was completely drained of my tears. It hurt even more to _try_ to cry, but I brought this pain unto myself. I was happy that I was unhappy, yet I was unhappy that I was happy. It was a never ending cycle, and I tried to cry for Daniel, not for pity of myself, but for Daniel, what he was going through right now.

I didn't deserve to sleep, but I did. I slept dreamless for four more hours. 5:56PM. I felt much better. I awoke and remembered Francesco, how he said he would take me out to dinner. However, I felt like I had just eaten a buffet at Vegas, I really didn't even feel like moving a tire. I laid in bed for five minutes, then decided that I _should_ go, maybe I could talk to him. I wasn't sure if I should trust Francesco, I barely knew him, but my gut told me he wasn't the snitching type, he could probably keep my secrets.

As I showered, I thought of how my gut had always had a good feeling about Francesco. It always had a good feeling about Daniel, too. My mother always told me how I was good at reading personalities, that I always looked at people from the inside and not the outside. That's how Daniel and I became friends. He wasn't to me, at least, appealing on the outside, but inside, I saw caring and compassion.

Francesco was a bit harder to read. On the outside, he was a living god to any female car, including myself. The first thing you would think when you looked at his personality was arrogance and selfishness, only wanting the best for himself, conceitedness, etc. He knew he was a living god, so he therefore acts like one. But what happens if you take all of those factors away, what type of person would he be? I remembered how he got me that Easter bread, something so very sweet of him to do, it really touched and surprised me, but I wondered if he knew that. I continued to think about him like this on and on, but truthfully, I was trying to hide the fact that I had lost my greatest friend, and I greatly hoped that Francesco would keep my mind off of Daniel Fascia.

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><p>You see, Emily isn't perfect, I didn't want to portray her as a selfish brod, but I didn't want her to be like Sally, with no flaws! No, I wanted to keep it realistic. Review, review!<p> 


	10. Speak Out

****Alright, the only reason why I released this chapter to you early is because **Mere**, you sent me messages, but they don't show. You disabled your Private Messaging! I couldn't get another way to get a hold of you, so I guess you're happy. :I To make it active again, you go Account, then Settings. Private messaging: Switch it to ON! Thank youuu.

KitKit: Yay first nickname use! :D Hope you enjoy the fluff, my biggest fan.

Nalsyluffles: Yep, I like that line too. ;)

Mere: Hope you enjoy! (And review)

SunshineWriterGirl: Thank you for always reviewing from the start. You were the person who gave me my first review EVER! :D You make me so happy when you r&r my story! Thanks!

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><p><strong>Chapter Ten: Speak Out<strong>

_(Francesco's POV)_

I hoped she wasn't thinking that I wasn't taking her to elegant restaurants because I didn't care about her. No, it was expected, as I thought before. How about a small, quiet dinner in my own house? Now that was _not_ expected. I loved to keep the women I dated on their toes, I loved to surprise people.

I admit, I did stay up late to think of little things I could make. I even considered cooking something other than Italian, but now was not the time to experiment with other cultures, something I knew very little of. Now was the time for perfect pasta or pizza. It would surely bring that perfect smile to her perfect face. I smiled at the ground as I thought of her.

The boiling sauce sputtered at me, and a few drops landed on my hood, making me jump awake again. I stirred it again and turned it off, then checked the time. 5:56PM, and I still haven't even showered! I was supposed to go to the hotel to pick her up soon, and I was daydreaming over a hot stove! I thanked the manufacturer that the food was done though. Just needed re-heating when she came. I covered it with the lid and hastily got ready.

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><p>As I drove through Monza, I tried not to notice the cameramen in the shadows. I tried to keep my temper cool, remembering what happened last time. I ignored the constant clicking I heard feet away.<p>

There it was, her grand hotel, it brought back last night's sweet little chat. I actually had no idea where I was supposed to meet her. The lobby, the back, the parking lot? My oil pressure increased with impatience, but I hushed it to stop. I was surprised at how under control I was today. All of me wanted to freak, there were already some instances where I would start ranting at myself, (the pasta, paparazzi, and now this), but they were all stupid little things that could set any Italian ranting. This is how my breed was, we were, unfortunately, complainers.

But none of that matters now as I see her come out of a hotel room door on the second level. A flash of light bounces off of her and hit me in the windshield, leaving a little purple blotch blocking my vision of her. As she gets closer, the blotch fades more and she is there, in front of me. Why did it feel like a dream, too good to be true?

"Buona sera." we both said in unison, and we laughed together. I could immediately tell something was wrong with her, just by how she laughed, it wan't even a laugh, more like a heavy breathing. I looked at her forced smile.

"So, you said you were going to surprise me, right?" she said with that still-forced smile, the corners of her mouth turning down, and her eyes looked lonely and sleepy, a bit bloodshot. This worried me, but I figured it wasn't my business, she would tell me what happened if she wanted to, I wouldn't ask, it felt rude.

"That I did, do you have-a any guesses?"

"Fancy establishment?"

I closed my eyes and shook from side to side. She apparently found this cute and let out a small laugh.

I heard some more clicks in the shadows, and I tensed up a bit. I knew my little secret was out. According to the media, Emilia Turbo and I had something. What was so bad about that? Francesco Bernoulli has his eyes on someone new? Yes, I admit, I did. I like her, I'm falling for her, okay, I'll just admit it to myself, I'm in love with Emilia Turbo, and there's no surprises or drama or secrets or background that I had to hide from the media. This felt good, it wasn't a secret-filled, dramatic, or full of lies, like my previous ones. This felt new.

I wasn't sure if she heard them too, so I ignored them, and we continued down the little hill, deeper into the city.

We arrived at my house and her face lit up as she looked around at my mini museum of me. She admired my trophies, posters, awards, merchandise, she even commented on the rugs and choice of curtains. She said I had good taste, but I never even thought of interior decorating when I bought the place, I just wanted big halls to hold and show off my achievements. They gave me confidence.

I had set up the table on the roof, which was my heaven on earth. It wasn't cold at all, but there were no stars out. This was a breathtaking view, even for me, the city's biggest fan. If I'm a fan of anything, it's Italia. My gorgeous home country paradise where I was raised with love. Spectacular cities, spectacular beaches, people, women, food, and spectacular racing. I was one lucky car.

She smiled the whole while I served her, but her eyes looked dark, bleak, and drawn. She complimented me on my food, saying it _was_ really good. Everyone who eats here says that. Why does everyone say I'm good at everything?

I could care less what the food tastes like, at this point, if it were any other girl, my pasta would be much more interesting. She was trying to cage in her feelings, but if she wasn't doing very good at it, I knew something terrible happened. I couldn't resist the urge.

"Now you don't-a seem like yourself..." I started off. My chin had long been healed, but it looks to me like her heart is fresh meat right now.

"What do you mean?"

"Is-a something bothering you?"

She looked up at the sky, and I had the notion that maybe she didn't trust me enough to tell me. Stupid! Why was I being so pesky? I didn't need to know her business! I considered this for another moment, and realized that maybe it was because I cared for her.

It seemed like she looked into my soul for a second, then she continued on.

"It's Daniel..." she looked at the ground. "He... I... got in a fight with him because he... said he loved me." I nodded. I could sense the strain in her voice, she was getting choked up.

"He said he wanted me to be with him, but sometimes he's too protective about me, he's constantly following me, and I... said some harsh things about how he needs to stop fending off my family and I, which he really isn't." The bottom of her windshield grew watery. "I regret all that I said the second it rolled off my tongue, now I just wish, I want him back. I love him, but I'm not _in _love with him, you know how everyone says that? He's my best friend, nearly my brother.

"I think he ran back to America last night. How will I get him now? And my parents haven't noticed... At least I don't think so."

"Emi, it seems to me you guys-a need-a some room. You said, he was-a your best friend, and I saw how-a close you two were. He'll-a come back to you, just give it time." I felt like a counselor now. Gee, another profession I could get into.

She stared at my wing blankly and nodded. She gazed at me again with her radiant smile. She was so lovely. "You can race, cook, and give advice." If only she knew I could give her love. "Thank you, this is amazing. You're amazing. I have to say Francesco, you really blew me away, you're so much more humbler than I thought you would be. You have a heart of gold, and I do hope you realize that." A shade of pink spread on her cheeks.

My engine fluttered and changed it's pitch a bit. I think she noticed.

"Because of-a you, I smile more. I enjoy your-a company immensely, when I am-a with you, all I can-a do is-a say stupid things and stutter. You bring me down-a to earth, even though you are a celebrity yourself. You're a hurricane when-a you race, you truly beat-a me a couple of times, and it gets-a me confused and stunned. Everything about-a you gets me confused and stunned, so you keep-a me wondering, always. But-a usually, I'm-a too self-centered, and you have-a really opened my eyes to this. It's you that changed me."

I peeked up at her, and this time, her smile was completely genuine and the tears forming on her windshield were of joy. I looked at her, then at the stars momentarily. I knew what had to be done. I had to say it, I had to tell her.

"Emilia," I paused to look at her, "I love you."


	11. Unforgettable Moments

Again, thank you SO MUCH for the reviews, I smile at each and every one of them, and appreciate each of them deeply, even if it's a short one, it means a lot to me! Just remember that!

I am feeling so sentimental & fluffy, so the song Knock You Down is perfect for this chapter. PERFECT. She even says "It's like I'm in a race, and I already won..."I don't own the song, or lyrics, all owned by Keri Hilson. This is my favorite chapter yet. Yes.

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><p><strong>Chapter Eleven: Unforgettable Moments<strong>

_(Francesco's POV)_

She gasped and tried to catch her breath.

We both moved in closer to each other, and before we could think about it, our lips were sliding together. The kiss was perfect, not guilty, but not innocent. Both of our engines now made a low grumbling sound as I hold her chin with my tire. I let my warm breath into her mouth, and she shivered. That amazing feeling of kissing someone you adore slipped through me yet again. I had kissed plenty of women before, and I knew it was supposed to be different every time, but this one really was different. Without the shadow of a doubt, I knew I never wanted it to stop. It was only a simple kiss, our first kiss, but she was already making me feel fuzzy and electrifying my senses. And this was only a kiss, so what more would this glorious car have in store for me? We let our lips move for one more second before she pulled away and revealed her misty, bright, aquamarines.

"I love you too."

What did I do that God would bless me with such an angel? Why did I deserve her? I silently thanked him for the short yet heavenly time we've spent together. I knew I wanted a lot more of it, I want to spend forever with her, if everyday could be like this. We snuggled more under the stars, talking, flirting, our open wheels touching, our breaths synchronizing.

I never thought I'd be in love like this

When I look at you, my mind goes on a trip

Then you came in and knocked me on my face

Feels like I'm in a race, but I already won first place.

I never thought I'd fall for you as hard as I did.

Got me thinking 'bout a life, a house, and kids.

Every morning I look at you and smile.

'Cause boy you came around, and you knocked me down.

Sometimes love comes around and it knocks you down

just get back up

when it knocks you down

Sometimes love comes around

and it knocks you down

just get back up

when it knocks you down

I never thought I hear myself say

Y'all go ahead, I think I'm going to kick it with my girl today

I used to be commander-in-chief for my ship flying high

Till I met this pretty little missile, who shot me out the sky...

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><p>We rendezvoused more often after that, we ate (finally) at my favorite cushy establishment, toured the city, practiced more down at the track, posed for pictures, answered the paparazzi's questions (yes!), bought things, shared laughs, tears, memories, and, my favorite, news of our relationship is out in the star gossip now, so that makes it a bit harder to have more private time, as there are more shutterbugs on our tail. The press was nothing to worry about, though. My fans and crew chief I can handle. What was nerve-wracking was being introduced to her parents over dinner. It has only been on a couple of other occasions where I was introduced to a girl's parents, and for some reason I always got very shaky.<p>

I knew I wanted to make a good impression, and Emi and I talked about it. She told me that her parents were racing fans, and very easy-going. She told me there was nothing to worry about, and I completely trusted her. I knew I could get a good night's sleep, and I did, she was right. The next day I met her parents and they were both very happy, friendly, Italian cars. We talked about everything Italians can talk about. Wine, racing, football, etc. I had this good feeling that they liked me, and Emily told me what they said about me, how they didn't expect me to be so down-to-earth. I figured we sat at the same position, so it was really easy to get along with them, and Emily too.

I could talk to her about anything and she would listen, understanding completely, telling me about her experiences, then give me some advice how she overcame it, and vice-versa. We were both very open, thus, leading to a great relationship. Not to mention she was a divine goddess, and she blushed at me when I whispered sweet-nothings to her.

I adored her more than I had any other woman, and I've only known her for three months. I admit, I know what it's like to feel loved. By my fans, my mama, the media, etc. But all of their love could not add up to how happy I felt when I knew she loved ME. That's all I need.


	12. Before the Goodbye

This one's short, I didn't even proofread it, (Punch me later for that if there's any typos), but I wanted to put it up to show you freaks that it's not done...! :D LOL. I don't own that song _Before the Goodbye by Britney Spears_. I just happened to come over it at the last minute, but I'm into putting songs in the chapter! cx

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><p><strong>Chapter Twelve: Before the Goodbye<strong>

_(Emily's POV)_

Being with Francesco was always a dream, it was always a shock every time he appeared to me.

He had already revealed so much about himself to me, and I had this feeling that he didn't do that to the other women he's dated prieviously. He told me how foolish he was, and that he was somewhat ashamed of himself for that. I don't think anyone's ever heard of Francesco being ashamed of himself, so I took his statements with pride, knowing that he trusted me.

It was our three month anniversary, and he surprised me with a chain for my axle. He showed up in his white walls I bought him, which was too cute for me to bear, and he explained how the chain would wrap to my axle perfectly, therefore causing no damage or bother to me when I was driving or racing. He brushed over where it could go, and that sent tingles through me.

Three months together. Three months of being with Europe's most amazing car. It felt like a lifetime, though. How lucky I was! I was the happiest I've been in a long time. But there still seemed to be this little pestering voice, telling me to worry about Daniel. You hurt him, remember? Now you're just killing him even more by ignoring him! Will you ever see him again? Sometimes these thoughts would pop up spontaneously, but Francesco would distract me with something shiny or amazing he wanted to show me or tell me about.

One night at dinner, my parents reminded me that we would only spend a few more days here, then it would be back to America. This sent a dagger into my side. I could never leave Francesco! Why would we have to separate over some dumb vacation? I could buy my own place here, in Italy. But how would I get money? A job? You can't just enter into Formula 1 over night. I had my racing career in America. A good one, too. Well what if Francesco moves to the States? No, that would never happen. He's much too fond of his home country, and I can't just destroy his career like that.

And so I kept trying to think of a solution, but it was this vicious cycle. I cried myself to sleep in stress, but when I woke and when I saw him, his presence picked up all my stress and pulled it apart, the exact same thing his presence was doing to my heart.

I can't deny that I haven't loved another male, I can't deny I was innocent. But what I could deny was the fact that I'm not in love with him. He was so romantic and sweet, and I could tell he had A LOT more to give me. We'd discussed the problem about me going back to America, and he honestly told me that he never wanted me to leave. He told me that he loves me again and again, and I told him I absolutely loved him too, and that I can't leave either.

But I had to. My parents were already frustrated with me spending all my time with him during our vacation, that we were supposed to be with our extended family here, and we did, but they were still angry that him and I were in the tabloids. The final days of me being in Italy were tough ones. Francesco pleaded I go on one last date with him, this time to a beautiful enclosed garden for a private dinner & dancing. We had my favorite Italian dish. Veal parmegiana. I remember telling him that, he remembered! He told me he also made me vinoil. It was delicious, not a surprise. Was there anything he's not good at?

"We'll-a write, and-a video chat, and-a visit each other..." he promised.

"And-a send each other recipes, watch each-a other on TV, and-a call, of course." I said to him, mocking his lovely accent. We shared a laugh.

His face then turned serious. "But Emi, really, you can-a completely trust-a me while you are away. I know there has always been lots of... distractions... when it comes-a to fan/race girls..." he closed his eyes and shaked his head for a moment. "But I can assure you, they don't-a attract me whatsoever, you are my magnet, mio amore, and I would-a never hurt you, ever."

My engine felt ready to explode and my tires felt like they were melting. This relieved me so, he was amazing and so loyal to me. He always made me feel like a princess.

After dinner, we roamed the gardens and found our way to a beautiful, old balcony where we shared a short, sweet, dance. I had heard so much that whenever you visit Italy, you will find romance and love, but this was much more than that. Francesco Bernoulli loves me, and I love him. That's all there is to it.

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><p>Now she was leaving. The car I had spent some of the best moments in my life, and she was being pulled away from me faster than my whels could carry me. She'd brought so many smiles to my face, so many fantasies in my head, and so many memories that I would cherish forever.<p>

Sitting here by your side

And you hold me tight, tight

Tryin' not to watch the clock

Tick, Tickin' as the time goes by

And I know that you best be on your way

But I'm wishin' I could make you stay

Stay with me for a while

Though

You're near

Still

I wanna make it clear

Love

I will always be around

You're leaving

I'm waiting

Forgive me

I'm always missing you

Before the goodbye

I Feel It

Already

Forgive me

I'm always missing you

Before the goodbye

Kinda hard for me to let you know

Still don't let my feelings show

How much I will miss in you

All the little things that make me weak

Your eyes and the way you speak

Without you baby I'm not me

Though

You're near

Still

I wanna make it clear

Love

I will always be around

You're leaving

I'm waiting

Forgive me

I'm always missing you

Before the goodbye

"This isn't goodbye." I told her.

She shook a no, and looked down at her hood silently. We were at the airport, sharing our last goodbyes. Some cameramen stood by, but neither of us cared. We stayed by each other, taking advantage of one another's presence.

Her parents came up to me and wished me their best, and I did the same. Her mother came slowly and gave me a kiss on the cheek. "Thank you," she told me, but I wasn't sure what for. Their plane was then announced, and her parents started heading towards the gate, but she stayed back.

Don't get confused, their final bonjour (or should I say ciao) is in the next chapter...


	13. Sentiments

Had spare time (for once!) today, so I thought I'd just post this! Sorry it's a bit short, but I know, secretly, reviewers sometimes like short chapters... xD

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><p><strong>Chapter Thirteen: Sentiments<strong>

_(Francesco's POV)_

Tears had now formed on both of us. "I... I love you," I started, "wherever I may be."

"I love you more."

"I love you most."

Inches away from each other, we moved in so our lips touched. This was the most passionate kiss yet, ten times stronger than the first. This was a kiss of passion, need, and love. Our lips moved together perfectly. I breathed deeply into her, and she shivered. She bit my top lip gently, then pulled away. I put my tire under her chin as I admired her shining aquamarines yet again.

"Goodbye..." was all she said before she turned to be the last one entering the gate.

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><p><em>(Daniel's POV)<em>

I was sick of seeing them all over the celebrity gossip. Yep, Emily seemed to be doing fine without me. No need for me, looks like she didn't even miss me. She has someone else.

I have mixed feelings, it's so complicated. I'm angry at her, jealous of Bernoulli, but, yet, I found that I cared for her so much, that I was actually happy for her, that she deserved better than me. But still angry. It isn't fair. She 'loves' Bernoulli for his... well... everything, right? Who has been there for her through thick and thin? Me. Yet she's with this superstar she'd known for a week, and treated me like pure garbage.

I still try to cry, but I know I have no more tears in me, and when I get re-hydrated, I spend my time letting them loose again. I changed my phone number because I didn't want to hear her voice or for her to do something dumb like track me from the number. Not saying she would do that, considering she's with the love of her life. I turned it to the gossip as I usually do, wanting to know what they did next. I see pictures and videos of them at an airport, saying goodbye. Hm, says she's going back to America. She won't find me. I moved out of my apartment we shared a couple of memories in into a new duplex. The landlord, who lives downstairs, and I are going out. I felt I needed _someone_ to love me, hoping that she could fill the aching gap.

"Well if you ask me, I don't even know why you were friends with her." She had told me.

"Hey, you knew we had history, Stephanie." I said, backing Emily up, just like I always do.

"Well, that's history. You have me now." She'd said before kissing me some more.

She was rough around the edges, but it didn't feel right. She wasn't... she just wasn't Emily. Then, I realized that no one can replace Emily. She was in the tires of another, and I just have to realize that. But for her to be so selfish? I had never seen that side of her. So I ran, afraid. I came back here, to America, and I moved out, away from her. I didn't want anything to do with her, I still don't, I'm still angry. I turned to drinking, cutting, and dating other women for my heartache. But none of these things sufficed. I don't feel complete. If only she knew how much I missed her, cared for her, loved her.

But now, I keep telling myself that I have moved on. I USED to love her. I USED to miss her. She's no part of me anymore. My heart now belongs to Stephanie. And if somehow she finds me, and tries to apologize, saying Bernoulli broke her heart, saying that she really loves me, I'll leave her in the dirt, just like she did to me, because I'm a changed car, less naive and more realistic. She changed me. Heartbreak changed me and opened my eyes.

Love, it was something that likes to ignore me. I know it's some evil child, staying with those who are better looking and fun. That's who love finds. But for someone timid, with not many friends, love likes to play games with you, ignore you. I doubt Emily and Bernoulli were meant to be. I wouldn't be surprised if he cheats on her. I tried to warn her, but she didn't listen. I won't waste my breath on her.

'You think about her too much.' I tell myself internally.

So I call Stephanie, the only female in my life right now. She doesn't pick up, so I head downstairs to her door. I tap it twice, only to find it open.

"Steph?" I call. Nothing.

I proceed deeper into her living room. I swear I could hear scratching from the dark hallway, so I curiously maneuver over. The only light I spy is coming from the bottom of her closed bedroom door. I head over slowly, and what I hear horrifies me. Timid kisses.

I burst the door open, and what I see literally shocks me. Bags all over. Sheets and bed a mess. Someone in the bed looking at me with surprised eyes. The TV on.

"Oh, hey, Dani," the silver 2010 Chrysler Sebring tells me, "want to join me? It's a triple feature."

I look to the TV and see two cars kissing in a soap opera. Oh.

She stuffs more chips in her mouth and throws me a bag. "Barbecue, your favorite." She says. That explains the bags... I sigh.

"What are you doing?" I ask rhetorically. "I started getting worried because you didn't pick up or answer the door."

"Can't a girl veg out? I mean, guys do it all the time." She bit another chip.

I rolled my eyes and smiled. I thought I was about to go through another heartbreak, I guess I underestimated Stephanie. I didn't start dating her because I thought she was pretty, just because I was sort of desperate. Now that I think of it, she's kind of a slob, but whatever, I am too. I then started thinking more seriously about Stephanie and I, was meeting her a blessing in disguise?

So we continue on like this, going on dates every now and then, but we preferred to stay home, considering we were both very lazy lumps on a log.

My life wasn't bad now, but it wasn't good either. Could have been better, could have been worse. I tried to stay optimistic. Let's see: I had a girlfriend, a place to live, food to eat, tires to drive on, I was healthy, and yeah, that's all. But on the other wheel, I couldn't find a job, therefore not being able to really pay the rent or buy necessary things. I was constantly tired, I was in debt, and my heart ached everyday.

All I could do now was wish my best on Bernoulli and Emily. Maybe if I would wish good things on them, good would come back. Karma gets to me often, so that night, I looked up at the stars and made a wish for them. I wished that Emily would always be happy, that she would never miss me, so she could move on with her life. I wished that Bernoulli would always treat her right, and that she would someday find the perfect car to be her spouse. I wished every happiness on both of them. I wished they would stay together, because they were cute together.

I noticed a few days after I had made the wish that I was sleeping better, smiling more, my heart didn't ache, and I had found a job. Things were finally starting to turn around.


	14. Dented

SweetPSixteen: Yep, cute line! Thanks for the karma thing. I fixed it... cx

For you readers, Chapter Fourteen on some of the busiest days in my school life so far... Love ya all. x3

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><p><strong>Chapter Fourteen: Dented<strong>

_(Francesco's POV)_

Life without Emily was like having a hangover after getting dumped by your girl last night only to find in the morning that you just got a foreclosure on your house. That bad. Life was so dull. My sun wasn't around to brighten my day. I found myself just slouching around my house, ignoring Giuseppe telling me I need to practice, because the only person I wanted to practice with was her. I was waiting for night time, where we would video chat, because of the time difference. She joked of how we were like lovesick teenagers, staying up all night video chatting, talking about random nonsense. Everytime I heard her voice, it comforted me. She could talk about anything, but all I wanted to do was hear her voice, to see her beautiful eyes, and her breathtaking smiles. It definitely wasn't the same off the screen of an iPad, but at least we were in contact.

Recently, she'd been talking a lot about Daniel, and I had always given her my advice, but she grew worried that he had moved out of his house. She cried over him, and I wished I was there to wrap my wheel around hers, telling her everything was alright. It was amazing how our wheels could be so interactive, I could hold her like I did to no other car with fenders, and this just made me more curious as to what else we were capable of...

It was special. Everything was so beautiful and different. I had never dated another female F1. In fact, I couldn't even think of any other F1s, except one in Spain (snotty, never even tried to have a relationship with her), and maybe an Irish one (wasn't too fond of her accent). Americans always confused me a bit, they seemed so laid back and at ease. Like McQueen, he lives in the fast lane, but he's so relaxed, enjoying life. That reminds me, I need to call him, see how him and Sally are doing, maybe challenge him to a race (and I would win). But that's besides the point.

Even Emi, being an F1 car, and also living in the fast lane, was not living as 'fast' as me. I don't know, my life's apparently more full of stress if I worry about these things.

So I decide, for my own good, to finally take Motorosi's advice and go out to get some fresh air running laps. First, I visit my mother to tell her that Emily had to go back to America. They both really liked each other, we visited my mother a few times and they would always chat and laugh, both of them telling me how sweet the other is. Being the mother she is, and only wanting the best for her son, she told me that I probably wouldn't find another like Emily, that she was a specal girl. I agreed with her, but I knew deep down she wanted to see me get married, settle down, and have kids some time soon. Every mother wants that for her child. After convincing her many times that Em and I were still together, and trying to explain what video chatting was, I left by giving her one last kiss on the cheek.

Now I headed out to the track for some me time. I met up with my crew, some of my competitors, some of my fans, some reporters, and I met up with the track. Others were running laps on this beautiful day, but I could easily avoid them, and I think they avoided me, what with me passing them up and even over-lapping them. The feel of racing dominated me every time. It always was the hardest thing to explain when the reporters ask, "What does it feel like when you're racing?" Most of the time I say I feel happy and free. That is true, I do feel that. But it's much more, a feeling you had to experience on your own to understand what I mean. You're on top of the world. Your oil pressure is high. You feel like a jet plane. Cars are screaming your name, begging for more. When you zoom past others, you can't help but snicker because you've dominated them in terms of speed. It's a very humbling experience. NOT.

My mother said I was a bit too self-confident, and she's right. I'm somewhat conceited. Alright, maybe a lot, but at least I don't talk in the third person as much as I used to. It was a habit, and old habits die hard, unfortunately. But I do it all for Emily, because I just knew she didn't want me to talk like that. It drives her crazy when I speak Italian, though. My lovey-dovey Italian. I rolled my eyes and smiled as I thought about her.

"Alright, that-a was 50 laps, you want to take-a break now?" Giuseppe asks in the headset.

"Si." I respond quickly, I'm used to being woken up from a daydream to find myself racing, I always think about things while going 280 kph.

I go to the break room, and see the new Ferrari racer, Leonardo Numio taking a sip of oil at a table.

"Ciao." I say to him. I've never really talked to the F1 before, let alone met him. How, and why, did I remember his name?

"Ciao." He says back with a smile.

I go over to the cooler to grab myself a quart of the good old stuff. He's a very talkative fellow, I see. So, to be polite, I head over to his table and park opposite of him.

"Francesco Bernoulli..." he starts and nods, "you're the king of F1 right now, huh? I wouldn't be surprised if you don't know my name."

"Leonardo Numio." I say to the rookie while taking a sip of oil. "Newest addition to-a the Ferrari F1 racing team, son of-a Paolo Numio, Ferrari legend. Everyone has-a high expectations of you." I say smugly.

His mouth gaped open a bit. "How... Forget it. Yeah, you're right, it's pressurizing. I don't think I'm good."

"You're a rookie! Don't-a be so harsh on-a yourself, every expert was-a once a beginner."

He looked at me like I was speaking the gospel or something. "Practice makes perfect. Say, you don't-" he stopped abruptly from the sound of a phone ringing. He pulled the phone out from behind his wheel in a flash.

"Uhm, I'm sorry, can I get this real quick?" he asks while he starts reversing out.

"Yes, go ahead, I'll-a be here."

"Grazie!" Then he zooms outside. Awkward, young kid. I thought to myself. I could see him turning into a great racer someday.

"Sorry, that was my... wife..." he says slowly as he returns, still looking at his phone.

Wife? How old was he? Early twenties? "Ah, Francesco understands. I hope you don't-a mind me asking, but, what is-a your wife's name?"

"Linda." He says lovingly. "She's expecting, and we're both nervous, so we're constantly calling each other."

She's pregnant, too? "Calling?" I ask curiously.

"Yes, she's in Capri right now with her mother, she's taking care of her. I'm just practicing right now before I go and meet her, to see her again." he sighs, "I've been out here racing, while she's on the other side of Italy, I just... miss her."

This kid was obviously very mature, I had no idea. Now he was talking about his love being far from him.

"And-a you'd do anything to see her again?" I ask."Oh, yes, of course, I AM going to see her, once my crew chief lets me go, of course." He looked at me with a slightly confused expression.

"Your wife being far from-a you. Isn't that-a hard to, you know, communicate?"

"Sometimes, but if you really love someone, why would you be separate from them in the first place?"

Now I was nodding my head and thinking about what he'd said.

It had been four weeks away from her, the video calls became less and less frequent, and I longed for her kisses. Hours felt like days with nothing to do, or no one to spend time with. Reporters asking me what happened, and all I could do was tell them we were still together. They lost interest in my affairs, so now there weren't as many than when Emi was around. It was a relief. I prayed for a solution to my loneliness, but deep down, I knew what had to be done. I had many second thoughts about it, but I just realized I was thinking about myself the whole time. I have to meet her. I know this sounds insane, especially coming from me, but...

Maybe it's time to say Ciao to my life in Italy and find something new in America.


	15. America

Happy Indy 500 day! This is dedicated to open wheels. x3 (Don't worry I still love fenders.)

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><p><strong>Chapter Fifteen: America<strong>

_(Francesco's POV)_

Now it was time to start planning. I found a perfect little house in Los Angeles, California, where she told me she lived. No, I wasn't going to sell any of my houses here in Italia, I'll probably have someone tend to them while I'm away. To be honest, I didn't know how long I was going to stay, maybe a month, maybe a year. Maybe... forever? It hurt if I had to say goodbye to my country, but if it meant being with Emilia, I would do anything. All I knew was that I wanted to surprise her. I honestly had no idea of what part of L.A. she resided, but she was by herself.

I was going to miss it all while I was away. What will my mother think when I tell her I bought a house in a country on the other side of the world? My family and friends? Giuseppe and my crew? I breathed a heavy sigh, knowing this isn't going to be easy nor fun. But for my love, anything.

The next month I repeated myself over and over to countless cars. This is how a normal conversation would go:  
>Me: So, I've-a found a place in America. I'm-a going to head over there-a for a while.<br>Them: What? Why?  
>Me: Because I want-a to be with Emily.<br>Them: Oh yeah, I saw on the gossip, you and Emilia Turbo had something, right?  
>Me: Yeah...<br>Then they would ask any question about Emi and I. Am I proposing, are we married already, what about racing...

It was all very tiring. But at least everyone knew now. Including my mother and Motorosi, to whom I talked to for 3 straight hours talking about love, racing, and American life.

By now, I just hoped Emi wouldn't find out, because I wasn't stupid enough to mention it to the media, only my closest friends. I would surprise them, too. Something my money-thirsty agent told me that would bring me lots of publicity. He tells me everything I do, the world is amazed by. It's great at first, but now it just gets on my nerves, knowing there are always eyes going up my exhaust pipe.

* * *

><p>Now it was time. Arrivederci has been said, kisses have been exchanged, and all has been packed. I boarded my private jet cautiously, taking in a last whiff of Italy's fresh morning air. I looked at my teary-eyed mother, her brown eyes full of worry, sorrow, and joy for me.<p>

The door closed and I was off. Wasn't there some special tune that you're supposed to sing when you were headed to America?

On the plane, I familiarized myself more with the cities and states, finding that Arizona was the next state over from California. I would definitely have to pay McQueen a visit. I'm an official resident of many countries, including the US, France, England, Ireland, Spain, and more. It was a convenience to international racers, I like to travel, for business or leisure.

I was still on Italia-time. I'm traveling 8-9 hours behind, and the flight took me roughly 16 hours. So, I chose to take a nap in the final hours of my trip. The loud scraping of the jet's wheels on the runway woke me up. I peered out the window and saw sunshine. I stretched my axles and shook myself awake, quickly gathering my things and putting them in my bag.

"Scusi, signorina," I asked the flight attendant grabbing my tray, "what-a time is it?"

She took out her phone, because this whole plane was still on Italy-time.

"1:32PM."

Wow, perfect timing, and I didn't even plan it.

"Grazie." And after that, everything was a blur. The car who I was buying the house from insisted he meets me at the airport, so we agreed that he would drive me up to the place. I arranged for a truck to come and deliver my things at the house later on in the day, so right now all I had on me was my carry-on.

He met me, just like he'd promised, and we started to drive through the smoggy city on this warm September day. We tried to stay off main roads, because everyone knows this place is littered with shutterbugs, but I heard clicks in the shadows. Maybe the sound of camera clicking is in my subconscious, because either I hear it in my dreams, or they take pictures of me sleeping, too. Every car passing by looked at me with a confused expression, and some of the ladies winked, but I just nodded with a small smile.

The owner guiding me did all of the talking, I was really taking in all the sights, because all of the other times I've been to LA, I was too focused on the women and reporters. I was much too smug of my home country, I wasn't expecting much of America, to be honest.

We drove on roads next to beaches, up sloping hills, dotted with palm trees, seeing expensive shops, restaurants, and theaters. Glitz and glamour always excited me, it was a totally different type of celebrity experience than back in Monza. Each city had it's own flare, it's own style, and I loved it all.

We approached a big black gate I had seen a picture of in the house's page. He entered the code, and the steel traps moved slowly apart. He led me up a brick driveway to show me the one storied, modern, Spanish-themed house. The second I saw it, I felt like I was in some sort of fairy tale. I had always wanted an adobe house, and here it sat, smiling back at me with it's tiled roof, tan paint, cacti - strewn front yard, pots of different shapes on the porch, mini palm trees dotted here and there, bubbling fountain of many colors, and it's thin, wooden windows. I already loved it more than my place back home.

He gave me a mini tour, and I took in the tiled floor, a tile painted with a design here and there. Not an inch of carpet anywhere, only beautifully sewn rugs placed everywhere. There was so many shades of brown all over, but there was still so many bright colors poking out everywhere. Fans were blowing, but he told me it was equipped with AC and  
>heat. There was wicker furniture here and there, but most of the decor was all different shades and types of wood. I could really get into interior decorating because of this house.<p>

"The best is yet to come," he told me, leading me out of the back door to the biggest backyard I have ever set wheel in. Complete with a big blue pool, bubbling spa, shed, barbecue, dining set, grass area, platform for dancing or a party, shed, and even a little box full of rich soil for an herb garden. It was even better than it looked in the pictures.

We did the paper work, I signed, and the three bedroom two bath adobe house was all mine. I was thrilled, and we shook tires with smiles on both of our faces.

After he left, I grabbed my bag and headed to the bathroom. I showered in my brand new mega-spa bath tub, with so many features I wasn't sure if I was going to get around to using them all. I got out, brushed my teeth, said some confidence-boosting words to myself, and called Emily.

One ring.

Two rings.

Three ri- "Hello?"

"Salve, mia bella amore."

"Hello my Francesco! You're up late, again, isn't it around 1AM over there?" Hearing her voice always made my eyelids droop in hapiness.

"Hmmmm, I don't-a know what you're-a talking about." I kidded, thank the manufacturer she hadn't found out yet.

"What'cha up to?" Please be home, please be home, please be home.

"Well, I WAS going to go out shopping, I'm at home now, my parents just left."

_Yes_. I could just scream right now, everything was falling into place. "Hmm, Francesco sees. Now, I have-a something for you, don't-a say, 'Oh you didn't have-a to buy it!' Ok?"

"Okay..."

"Francesco needs-a your address so he can-a send it."

"3298 Mission Road, Los Angeles, Cali..."

"Mhmmmmm..." I quickly jotted it down, although I already had it memorized. "Okay, Francesco has to go now, it is-a very important. You will love-a your surprise, honestly."

"Both you and I know I will." I could almost hear her eyes rolling.

"Right! Arrivederci!"

One shot of vino, a spray of breath mint, and a quick look in the mirror later, and I was gone.


	16. Paradise

This is going to be a long one. Sorry...?

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><p><strong>Chapter Sixteen: Paradise<strong>

_(Emily's POV)_

"Right! Arrivederci!" Francesco said quickly.

"Um, b-" but he had already hung up. That was really weird and unlike him. Must be a big surprise, then. I started fantasizing what it might be, maybe some jewelry or rims or food of some sort, the usual Francesco stuff. Maybe it had something to do with Daniel! Did he talk to him? I wasn't sure exactly when this thing was coming, it could be today or tomorrow or the next week. Thanks for being so specific, honey. He couldn't contain his excitement, most likely. So in the extra time I had waiting for whatever it is to arrive, I called Daniel, knowing he wouldn't pick up because I knew he changed it, I made myself a sandwich, and I started checking my email when the door suddenly rang. Too lazy to look through the peep hole to see who it is, I swung it open expecting to see a delivery man of some sort.

What stood before me was the only car my engine ran for, my little celebrity, my one love who I saw at the track and didn't expect to get much more than a hello from. My Francesco Bernoulli, and here he was, standing at my doorway, which was hundreds of miles away from his home, with a bouquet of flowers and a sheepish smile on his mouth. My winshield was filled with tears immediately, and we looked into each other's eyes, just taking advantage of each other's presence.

"Happy five month anniversary..." he started, but was rudely interrupted by my urgent lips needing his.

"You always surprise me every month, I'm still not used to it..." I say hastily between kisses. He was so... just amazing, I can't think of a word good enough to describe him. "You came... all the way..."

"For you? Of-a course. Are you not-a worth it?" He was too much, I don't deserve his love.

"Thank you," kiss, "thank you," kiss, "thank you!" Kiss.

Nothing is better than the feeling of being loved so much, that your body is numb, and everything turns fuzzy. The only thing that is clear is the loving car in front of you, he's the only thing that matters now. The rest of the world is tuned out, and it's only you and him. We were at the doorway kissing for a good two minutes, before the need for oxygen owned us.

"Why... Why do you love me so? What makes me different than any other women you've had?" It was a question I always wanted to ask him, but never had the guts.

He chuckled. "Well, you're beautiful, but I don't-a think you know that. You're-a soft, but tough as-a nails. You're-a so smart, extremely charming, and you're-a one hell of a racer. You amaze me in-a everything you do, you never bore me. You're-a irresistible. You don't-a complain, or try-a to use me. You are funny, and-a so very down to earth.

"I'm a sucker for-a blue-green eyes. You confuse-a me, and-a stun me, but that's-a because I'm-a blinded by love when it-a comes to you. Other females bore-a me when I'm around you, because you know I'm-a fond of-a open wheels, fenders just don't-a work." He chuckles again. "I could-a idle here and-a talk about-a you all day if I could, but-a you'd get bored, I'm sure of it."

"No, I've never heard this, please continue."

"Okay, we're-a magnets, you're-a mine, and I'm-a yours. I love how I can talk-a to you about anything, and-a you'd understand completely, because you've-a been in my tires. How many females can-a do that? I think-a back, and I remember when we first-a spoke to each other, I was on-a meds, and-a going delusional, I wonder if-a you thought I was on-a drugs or something..." He laughs, remembering that silly moment.

He continues, "But, you still-a came back to me, even if-a you did consider me a snob. You CAN get me at racing, I don't-a know how, or-a why, but I try my best, yet you win. You just always blow me away to your world, and I lose-a concentration around-a you, always-a stamering nonsense and sometimes forgetting what I was-a saying. Altogether, I love you, so very much, I will always love you, now and forever. Ora e sempre."

I was shaking and crying tears of joy, leaning against him with my windshield closed. Our tires touching together in that special position only two F1 cars could hold each other. I have never had a more perfect moment in my life. I could stay like this forever, appreciating his presence, feeling his breath. Kissing. Touching. Breathing. It was so romantic and magical. He was a gift.

After admiring each other, I decided to give him a tour of MY house, like he had done to me. I showed him my trophies and posters, which was a microscopic collection compared to his. He looked at my family wall more instead, asking who was who in each picture. He laughed at my prom photo of Daniel and I, which brought back the last moments I'd seen him. My eyelids shut momentarily and I only focused on Francesco.

"Are you hungry?" I asked politely.

"Well, I wanted to show you something..."

I rolled my eyes playfully. "All right then. Where is it?"

"Not too far from here, surprisingly." He winks at me then started heading towards the door, so I follow. Does he even know the impact he leaves on me when he winks?

We drive up and around the neighborhood, taking more of the side streets. I was shocked how he already knew his way around here. During the drive, I asked why he came here and his answer was simple: to be with me. Traveling Chrysler knows how many miles just to see me. That is love.

We arrived at a big gate on a quiet street. Bella Via Road. I've never been on this side of town. Who's house was this? No. Not his. He fidgets with the padlock and they move open.

"Benvenuti a Casa Francesco." He gestures towards the brick driveway. A house? He bought a house here, or did he already have it?

"You have a house here? When'd you get it? Why?" I ask hastily.

He laughs at the ground. "I bought it so I'd have a form of decent shelter when I stay to see you."

Now I'm starting to feel faint. "To... visit me? Francesco-"

"Ahh, say no more mio amore, you're worth it. Wait until you see it, you'll love it."

He turns into the driveway, slowly tilting for me to come. I get pulled by his magnet.

A few seconds later, what stands before me is the prettiest little Spanish-style house I've ever seen. With a tiled roof and floor, fountain, colorful flowers, and big porch, it stands proudly, most likely thinking, 'I belong to Francesco Bernoulli! Wow!'

"Do you like it?"

"No. I LOVE it." I wasn't sure what to say, still admiring the paradise home.

"Shall I give-a you another tour?" He says with a laugh.

I nod, speeclessly gaping at the beautiful detail. He led the way again. Oh, how I loved the kitchen, bathrooms, bedrooms, and backyard.

"You've got yourself a beautiful place here, and the furniture came with it?" I ask as we sit in the setting sun by the pool.

"Everything. My things haven't-a even arrived yet."

"Renting?"

"Nope, buying." My jaw dropped and hit the floor. "I fell in love with it too much." He laughed at my reaction. This guy had pockets of money, does he give to charity? I know I do.

"I know what-a you're thinking. My Mama gave-a me some money, and I can-a pay off the rest. I'm generous, don't worry! I've-a given money to Children's Hospital Foundation, and WFP..."

"Oh, you don't worry. I know you're not like that." I kissed him on the cheek.

"I love you." He reminds me, and I feel dazed again.

"I love you, too." And we kiss again.

"So what's the plan? I can help you unpack, or we can go eat..." I ask, but I really didn't wnt to go out to eat here in this huge city owned by paparazzi.

"How about we order something? Stay in, take a dip, or water the garden?"

"Sure, that sounds nice. How about salad, burgers, fries, and potato salad?"

"Hey, it's-a America, why not? Sounds-a nice."

We mess with Siri on my iPhone to look up some sort of American food delivery service. After three tries with the darn thing, Francesco shouts, "American food to go." and I crack up.

Siri pops up with fast food restaurants like Arby's and Wendy's. I laugh even more. Francesco takes out his phone and goes on YellowPages. He finds some quickly, and I laugh again when he says, "Android." So I call, figuring he's never ordered food over the phone.

Now we get to work. I sweep the decks with a mini clip-on broom, and check all the faucets to see if they're working properly. He waters the flowers, and tries to adjust the sprinkler system. He fidgets with the pool generator, the porch lights, and the two security cameras. I laugh at his confused and deep in thought expression when he reads the manual. We open the shed and find many garden tools including a lawn mower, extra hose, pool chemicals, and other tools we had no idea what they were for.

The food arrived in a catering-like way. It was simply just two big box lunches. Very different and cute, and the burger was good, too. Francesco liked it.

The delivery truck came now with his forklift helpers. We all helped unload things, but I think all of them were scrambling to get more things than me, just to be polite. He tipped them all, thanked them, and sent them on their way. I unpacked the kitchen box while he put up the TV. We took out most of the things before we both collapsed of exhaustion.

"Moving in is-a hard work, but it's-a exciting." He smiled, and I couldn't help but feel happy for him and his new house.

"Thank-a you very much for all your help. I owe you." He said.

"Thank _you_ for showing me your house. Thank you for coming, for living here just because you wanted to see me. I'm still in shock, I can't believe that you would do such a sweet thing for me, just to see me. I missed you so much."

"Francesco missed-a you too, that's-a why he came."

I feel my cheeks heat. "Thank you, it's been wonderful, but I must be going now, I have an interview tomorrow. I love you."

"I love you too. I'll-a long to see you again."

He doesn't know how much I miss him already. And after one last goodbye kiss, I drive away from the person who my world revolves around.

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><p><span>TRANSLATIONS:<span>

Benvenuti a Casa Francesco: Welcome to Casa Francesco!

(yeah obvious xD)

I love reviews!


	17. Blind

Well, it's the night before my graduation and here I am posting chapters for you! Gawrsh... Spoiled readers... xD Enjoy! Next is the LAST chapter! ~ :o

Nals: Yep, it's a marathon! And tomorrow I will post the last. I'm glad you were touched by the moment. xD

Starry Night: As many as possible! ;)

Oh yeah the T rating is becoming active in this chap. ;) Sorta.

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><p><strong>Chapter Seventeen: Blind<strong>

_(Francesco's POV)_

Now this was how it's supposed to be. Us together. The 'razzi was on our tail more than ever, because they couldn't get it through their thick hood that I'd bought a house here in L.A. I tried my best to not let it get to me. Once again, we toured the city, ate at uppity restaurants, took a drive on the beach (very romantic and fun), watched movies at her place, messed around in my pool, and... we had dinner with her parents. I was a bit nervous, but not nearly as close as next time. Yes, I was overreacting. They were welcoming and down-to-earth as usual.

Now I'm glad everything was going good, because we were having the time of our lives. I felt on top of the world. I've felt this before, but this time, it felt true. I was proud to be with such a lovely car.

Well, I jinxed it.

"I love how you look in the moonlight..." She states as she gazes at me lovingly.

"I'm-a nothing compared to you. Why are-a you so damn gorgeous?"

She giggles and looks away, biting her bottom lip. I roll over and kiss her wheel.

We idle there quietly for awhile, before I break the silence.

"What are you thinking about-a, principessa?"

She sighed and looked at me straight in the eyes. She then stared blandly at my wheel.

"Do you really want to know?"

"Si!"

"Just... Never mind."

"Per favore mi dica."

"You know, I was thinking about Danny."

She's thinking about him again. HIM. It's always him. Oh, I regret this, and oh I regret that, and what was I thinking, and he didn't deserve it... Blah. Blah. Blah. It was all getting very old. I don't want to hear about him anymore. He's breaking us apart, slowly but surely, because Em cares for him too much.

"It's over and-a done with." I say flatly. I don't know what happened to me now, but a fuze inside of me lit. I felt a tiny flame flicker, then grow and grow, until it enveloped me. I was full of rage.

She seemed surprised by my response. She glanced over at me with a confused expression.

"Well I still care."

"Too much. He's-a gone. There's nothing you can-a do about it."

"I can apologize! You know what, Francesco? Why don't you like him? What has HE done to you? What is your problem?"

"I don't-a even see why you hang around-a him. He's not-a even funny."

"He's my BEST FRIEND! And since when do you judge cars by them being funny or not? Why do you judge them at all?"

"Jud... Er. W-well now you're-a making me sound bad."

"Damn right I am! Because, I swear, you need a good kick in the bumper. I actually believed you were a good person, but I guess love blinded me from your TRUE personality, and that's just a selfish, conceited, arrogant, jerk!" She hisses at me.

"I thought-a you were different than all the other females I've-a met. You're acting like-a such a..." I could call her the name I wanted to, but something in the back of my mind told me to shut up. Oil throbbing, I feel a big lump form in my throat.

"You should have never come here. It was a mistake." She looks from the ground, to me. "Maybe dating you was a mistake. After all, Daniel is gone because of _you_."

"Because of-a me?" I squeak weakly. What was she saying? She doesn't want me anymore? "YOU had-a the fight with him!"

"He left me because I was with you, and you know that, Francesco! And when I cried about him, what did you do? You told me _you_ were here for me. You didn't care if I cared about him."

"Speak for yourself." I growl.

"Just leave. I... I need to be alone."

No. Never. "I'm not-a leaving you. If I go, you have-a nobody. I won't-a leave you stranded. But we need space."

"I don't care! Just get out of here! I don't want to see you!" With her lips quivering, she turns and drives away.

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><p>Bzzt. I wake suddenly, startled as usual by the alarm. But my heavy eyelids fall to a close again over my stinging eyes. I remember last night.<p>

I went to sleep one hour ago, and the rest of the night was spent crying over her. I felt ashamed. But I love her, and it's okay to cry over her; it means I care. I cried because all she said was true. I had ruined their friendship, _and _our relationship. What have I done?

I know Daniel cried over Emily, and vice versa. So this is how they felt, and I could care less.

I showered, but it didn't help. I took aspirin for my throbbing hood, but that didn't work either.

I sat in my living room staring blankly at the carpet like a zombie. I didn't eat breakfast, I simply don't want to eat.

Ring! Ring! Ring! It's my phone on the counter. I ignore it.

Ring! Ring! Ring! Again.

Ring! Ring! Ring! It must be my mama; she's the only one who calls over and over.

Caller ID says, 'Bartolomeo'. Who was that again? Right, it was my mama's housekeeper.

"Hello?" I ask, used to English. My voice sounds dead.

"Chi è là? Dove è Francesco?"

"Parlando."

"Francesco! È urgente! Avete di venire qui, la vostra mamma... Ho trovato il suo inconscio nella sua casa! Siamo in un'ambulanza! Non sei in America?"

Is this a dream? Because I can't believe what I'm hearing right now.

"Francesco? FRANCESCO!"

"Ah, si? Si?"

"Dove sei?"

"Is-a she okay? Is-a she breathing?"

"Sì, la respirazione, ma non risponde. Dove sei?"

This took some time to settle in.

"America. Io sto venendo." I wake up instantly and gather my things as fast as I go on a track. I say Hail Marys as I do everything. I text Emi: "I have to go back to italia. Its not ur fault. Ill ttyl. Ily."

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><p>18 hours later...<p>

Maneuvering through a hospital is not my thing, but I manage to find her room.

"Mama!" I exclaim, opening the door.

"Francesco!" I see her propped up on the bed, sheets and tubes wrapped around her.

"Oh mamma dolce, ciò che è accaduto a voi?" I ask.

"Sono bene, mio bambino. Ho appena avuto una reazione di nuovi farmaci."

"Che tipo?"

"Attacco di motore, ma Dio sa che io mai non cadrò per quello. Noi Bernoullis inganna morte ogni giorno!"

It was relieving to know she was going to be okay.

Later that night...

"Buona notte a mama." I say, kissing her wheel. She still wouldn't stop talking about the type of care at this hospital.

"Oh bene, buonanotte, figlio. So che sei stanco. Andare a dormire. Buona notte."

"Si, Che sarebbe come molto. Goodnight."

Before I exit the main hospital doors, I check my phone again, but still no new message from her.

Confused and brokenhearted, I drive into the dark night alone.

Once at my Monza house, I unpack, although I don't know when (or if) I'll be at my L.A. house again. I just brought necessary things over here. I sigh in self pity.

The doorbell rings. It's 12 in the morning! Oh, wait. It's most likely Bartolomeo. He said he would come.

I open the door and expect to see an ugly, fat, car with a sour face. But, yet again, I MUST be dreaming.

Here she sits, black paint job, open wheels, perfect body, thick eyelashes, and striking emeralds that are misty, yet drawn, probably from crying, too. I want it all.

She cam back for me? A passionate kiss erupts, and I think of how I wish I could see her to tell her everything, but no words are needed as we seem to be able to understand each other. I can almost tell her everything by the way I move my lips against hers. I even feel apology bursting from her, but it wasn't her fault.

She kisses me even harder now, and our engines rev in excitement. I hear the door close somewhere and I feel my tires move from under me.

I continue to kiss her, letting her take control of wherever she's taking me. We're going up the ramp now, and down the hall... towards my bedroom...? What?

Yes. I like where this is going.

Into my room we go, and I thank Chrysler my bed is made. I'm still going backwards, mind you, so she's just leading me. It's all fine by me, because she can do what she wants tonight...

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><p>Hmmmm... Let's see where this is going... xD The next chapter is the last!<p>

TRANSLATIONS:

principessa: princess

Per favore mi dica: Please tell me

Chi è là? Dove è Francesco?: Who's there? Where's Francesco?

Parlando: Speaking

Francesco! È urgente! Avete di venire qui, la vostra mamma... Ho trovato il suo inconscio nella sua casa! Siamo in un'ambulanza! Non sei in America?: Francesco! It's urgent! You have to come over here, your mama... I found her unconscious in her house! We're in an ambulance now! Aren't you in America?

Dove sei?: Where are you?

Sì, la respirazione, ma non risponde. Dove sei?: Yes, she's breathing, but unresponsive. Where are you?

Io sto venendo: I'm coming

Oh mamma dolce, ciò che è accaduto a voi?: Oh sweet mama, what happened to you?

Sono bene, mio bambino. Ho appena avuto una reazione di nuovi farmaci: Oh, I'm fine baby. I just had a reaction to new medications.

Che tipo?: What kind?

Attacco di motore, ma Dio sa che io mai non cadrò per quello. Noi Bernoullis inganna morte ogni giorno!: Engine attack, but God knows I won't ever fall for that. We Bernoullis cheat death every day!

Oh bene, buonanotte, figlio. So che sei stanco. Andare a dormire. Buona notte: Oh alright, goodnight, son. I know you're tired. Go and get some sleep. Goodnight.

Si, Che sarebbe come molto: Yes, I would like that very much

Whew, that's A LOT of translations. O.o


	18. Now and Forever

I thought I would never finish this story, but I did, and here it is: the last mini chapter of OES! #Pats self on back. ^-^

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><p><strong>Chapter Eighteen: Now and Forever<strong>

_(Francesco's POV)_

My eyes open as my rear hits the bed, and I start to whisper sweet words to her as I climb on.

"Uh-uh..." She scolds, and pulls me off, but kisses me again, leading me somewhere else. What?

The door to the roof opens and warm wind fills the room. She leads me up. Now I am very confused.

I open my eyes and see her beautiful eyes shining in the stars. Warmth fills me.

"What-a was that all about, back-a there, huh?" I ask.

"You think wrong. _You_ have high expectations at an early stage." She pecks my lips.

"Still... It WAS interesting, don't-a you agree?"

She rolls her eyes. " Yeah sure. Maybe some other time."

"Aha! Really?"

"No."

"Awww..."

"So. Why did you come back, huh?" She asks.

"Mama Bernoulli had a little reaction to some-a meds."

"Oh my gosh! Is she okay?"

"Yes, of course. You know she's tough."

"That's good..."

We sit there quietly for a moment, gazing up at the stars.

"Emilia, I'm-a sorry. For what I've-a done. It's not right. I promise we'll-a get him back. I'll-a drag his tires over here."

Teary-eyed, she replied, "It's not your fault, and you know that! I was selfish. I'm sorry also."

We kiss again. "So... I'll-a help you get Daniel back if-a you..." I wiggle my eyebrows and make a kissy face at her. I'm pretty sure she knows my incentive.

"Oh okay, just kiss you."

"Nope, more-a than that."

"I already told you: no." Says she.

"Hmmmm..." I say.

I get real close to her, kiss her on the cheek, and simply ask,

"What if-a you marry me?"

Her eyes widen and her mouth forms an o. "What?"

"Well, it's-a simple. I love you... Ora e sempre."

**The End.**

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><p>Wow! That's the end of my FIRST FanFic I EVER wrote! :D #Passes out.<p>

Well, I want to give a hu-numbo thank you to EVERYONE who r&r-ed! I wish I could give you a big hug, a million dollars, and a new 2013 Dodge Viper! I love you all! Grazie!

There will definitely be a sequel to this, but I may choose to release a few SalQueen fics first. I don't know. Just stalk me to see when I have a new story up.

Viva Emilesco! Thank you for your support! (Quoting as usual. x)


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